It's About Time, Dr Drakken
by yellowmattercustard
Summary: Chapter 10 of my KP/Back to the Future spoof is finally here. What wonders still await Shego in the world of 2018? How do they involve a showdown with vicious gang leader Brick Flagg? Dedicated to Michael J Fox.
1. The Test

Disclaimer: I do not own Kim Possible or Back to the Future or any of the characters, and am just a devoted fan having fun.  
  
*"A fast clock and a slow clock are never right, but a stopped clock is right twice a day."* - Classic proverb  
  
Note: This is a spoof on the 'Back to the Future' trilogy with KP characters. This chapter is more or less the introduction, so my apologies if it seems a little slow or technical, but it was important to start with all this information.  
  
* * *  
  
June 7th 2003. 12:31 am. I think that was the time it all started.  
  
We were standing out there in the empty parking lot, poorly lit by the dim glow of the flickering streetlights. The best place currently available in which to carry out open-air testing without being seen. You've got to play it safe when you're in this field of business; you can't afford to be conspicuous when there could be authorities lurking nearby. Unless of course you want to get caught and thrown back into maximum security. Not me, though. I was in this business for real. And besides which, we knew for a fact that tonight was the best night we'd found in ages in which to carry out our latest scheme, at least while our usual line of lairs were still in repair having been blown up for the umpteenth time. About 90 per cent of the Middleton population were right up the other side of town, too caught up in some dumb protest rally to notice what they were missing behind their backs. I'd got the gist of it all earlier that day when I'd gone to check it all out - something to do with a stopped clock in the town centre or what. Some guy had stuffed one of the fliers into my hand, which I'd quickly pocketed and gone through later.  
  
I guess I should introduce myself. Name - easy, it's Shego (pronounced 'Sheego'). Distinguishing features - pale skin, green-and-black jump suit, long sharp razor-like fingernails, gloves that shoot green destructive rays; the works. Occupation - mad assistant to mad scientist Dr Drakken. Maybe you've heard of his work. Claim to fame - being wanted in roughly eleven different countries (so you haven't seen me, right?). Overall aim - assist Drakken in his master-plan of world domination, taking down anyone who should stand in our way, come blitz or blizzard or. . . crime-fighting teenage superheroes (ugh!). Yeah, well, Kim can go on and think she's so great and invincible, but it'll only make it all the better for me when I finally beat her. Anyhow, like I'm saying, I'm all the brawn in the partnership, and probably a heck lot more of the brain than Dr D would like to think too.  
  
When it comes to all the high-tech scientific contraptions, though, that's Drakken's department, and this occasion wasn't any different. We've tried out loads of outlandish stuff in the past - brain-switching, power-rings, mind control (as a matter of fact I was on the receiving end of that one . . . no matter - I got my own back. I REALLY got it back!) Long story short, no matter how impressive all the nuts and bolts involved are, we never really get that much closer to seizing the world in the long run. Mainly because of a certain high school student named Kim Possible who always interferes right when you need her to show up the least. Still, she's nothing I can't handle.  
  
"You're absolutely sure no one else will be around?" Drakken was asking me at that precise moment. "I didn't bother bringing the Goons on this one."  
  
"No sweat - I checked it all out earlier. The people of this town really have a thing for this stupid clock. . . apparently it's just been hung up there in the town centre doing nothing for the past decade and a half, ever since it got struck by lightning around fifteen years ago. The town officials finally want to replace it with a clock that actually works, and guess what? Everyone from the 'preserve historic monuments' department has lured the entire town into this protest. It's been claiming it's 10:04 for so long that they all want to keep it that way. Result; huge burly protest all the way over in the town centre, happy coincidence that we just happen to have a new scheme to launch right now."  
  
"Good. . . I can't afford to have any disturbances on this one, Shego! For tonight, we are about to witness the latest product of my unlimited genius - one that will not only bring me one step closer to my goal of being declared supreme ruler of earth, but will also break one of the most significant scientific barriers in the history of humanity! Presenting this wonderful device, standing right over there!"  
  
Looking over, I saw what he was pointing at - a car. A Peugeot 626 to be precise. One that looked like it had been horribly mangled round the back, sporting a complex range of unsightly wires and circuits. I'd assumed, when I first saw it, it had been dumped there in the parking lot when some driver had got sick of trying to repair it.  
  
"That thing?" I exclaimed. "That's your new device? That's the thing that's gonna break scientific barriers?" I couldn't help but burst out laughing. You would have done if you could have seen it.  
  
"Don't question it, Shego!" Drakken growled, sharply. "You're looking at something that mankind, all throughout history, with his weak and feeble mind, has yearned to construct but always failed, and what I have finally, and naturally, achieved! And what's more tonight I will at long last put it into action! Bring forth Commodore Puddles!"  
  
A toy-sized French poodle, in case you're wondering. But no ordinary one. One that scares the heck out of Drakken's henchmen, and I've never been so sure of myself. So little.yet *so* evil. Snapping, snarling, foaming at the mouth, but, luckily for me, muzzled, Commodore Puddles was fished out of his cage with some effort and hoisted into the front seat of the vehicle, strapped down tight and with a stop clock hanging round his fluffy white neck.  
  
"Note, Shego," said Dr Drakken, producing one of his own, "that Commodore Puddles' clock is exactly in synch with mine."  
  
The toy-sized monster continued to writhe and froth, front paws tearing ferociously at the strap that held him, while Dr D backed away and laid his hands on some sort of chunky-looking remote control-type device.  
  
"Watch carefully, Shego," he said, while in the process of fiddling with a few buttons. "I think even you'll be surprised."  
  
"Try me," I whispered, underneath my breath.  
  
One more button, and then it all started. The engine suddenly came to life, the vehicle revved up in seconds, and shot into motion, wheels burning down hard against the surface of the tarmac parking lot as it zoomed round and round in a continuous circle, gaining more and more speed with each second that passed. Impressive, I suppose, if you've never seen a car before.  
  
"Is this it?" I asked, as Drakken continued to fiddle around with his brand new toy.  
  
"Of course not, Shego! I told you not to question it - I'm just getting started! Let's see how fast this thing will go, first though. 60 miles an hour.nothing. 75. . . hmm, still nothing. 90. . . get ready, Shego! Here it comes! If my calculations are correct, when this baby hits 90 miles an hour, you're gonna see some serious . . ."  
  
Before he could even finish, there came a mind-numbing split second in which the vehicle suddenly morphed into a sickly blur and then. . . then. . . it just disappeared, vanishing in a flash of white surge and burst of mild flame. For a few brief moments, the flames flickered harmlessly on the tarmac, before they too were gone, leaving nothing at all.  
  
I could hardly believe it. "Dr Drakken! You. . . *you just disintegrated Commodore Puddles!*"  
  
He laughed his usual evil laugh. "No, both Commodore Puddles and the device are still perfectly intact!"  
  
"Then. . . where the hell is he?"  
  
"It's more a matter of 'when' the hell is he. For you see, Shego, I have just sent our fluffy little friend one minute into the future!"  
  
"Wha. . . what?"  
  
"I told you it was the work of pure genius, didn't I?"  
  
The next 50 odd seconds that passed seemed as dizzying a blur as Commodore and that infernal machine had been right before their disappearance. Right before my very eyes. . . a single minute just wasn't enough time to take it all in. Time travel? And I'd thought those Bebe-bots were strange. . .  
  
And then.BANG! - another burst of sparse flame and both dog and device had reappeared, literally out of thin air, before the screech of tyre against tarmac as they came to a gentle halt just inches from us. On observation, the four-legged pioneer seemed somewhat sickened and dizzy from his experience, but had plunged straight back into the Commodore Puddles were used to the instant he was unstrapped, matching his jaws relentlessly against his muzzle, presumably in the fighting hope that it would snap and he'd be free to go for a Drakken or Shego-leg sandwich.  
  
"YES!!!" my scientist friend was cheering. "I did it! I knew my calculations wouldn't let me down! Observe, Shego, Commodore Puddles' stop clock once more, and note that it is now running exactly one minute behind my own!"  
  
"Which means?"  
  
"*Which means* that Commodores Puddles' recent journey through the barrier of time was entirely instantaneous as far as he was concerned! He can't even have been aware of his little escapade, he just skipped right over that minute he was gone! *That* is the art of time travel, Shego - you can go back and forth for millenniums' worth of time in the blink of an eye!"  
  
"This hunk of junk goes back as well as forward?" I stammered, still rather shaken.  
  
"Indeed. . . just imagine the possibilities. . . "  
  
"For world domination?"  
  
"Well, I'm still working on my overall scheme, Shego, but at least we now know that my latest invention is a success! Just remember that the course of time is a very sensitive thing. You go back in time and the slightest alteration you make to the past can change the future you once knew, dramatically. . . if we're going to figure out how to exploit such a complex dilemma for our own advantage, it's going to take the most precise forms of planning - our plutonium supply is pretty limited. . ."  
  
"Plutomium?" I exclaimed. "You mean. . . it's* nuclear*? It doesn't just run on regular unleaded gasoline?"  
  
"Unfortunately not," Drakken replied. "Regular unleaded gasoline just wouldn't cut it. For a device like this you need something with a little more kick - like plutonium! But don't panic, the Peugeot itself isn't nuclear. It just takes a nuclear reaction to generate the 1.21 gigawatts I need . . ."  
  
"Doc, you don't just walk into a store and buy plutonium, and you certainly didn't ask me to obtain it for you. . . are you telling me you ripped the stuff off, *yourself*?"  
  
"Shhhhh! I don't care if this entire futile development has all been absorbed by some great rusted clock tonight - someone still might be listening in! Of course I had to rip it off - from a pair of terrorist knights, would you believe it? The Knights of Rodeghan, or something like that. They asked me to build them a bomb if they gave me the plutonium, so they could take on the monarchy of their country or what. . . some strange country I'd never even heard of. . . so I just took the plutonium and gave them a shiny bomb shell full of used pinball parts!"  
  
"What were you thinking? Did it ever occur to you that they may come back?"  
  
"Oh, they'll never find me! I've got it all covered. Now come on, I'll show you how it works."  
  
The interior of the Peugeot was equally as bizarre, crammed with even more circuits of wiring, and about three or four miniature computer screens to boot. Towards the back of the car, encased in a small glass capsule, was one of the most curious objects I'd ever seen, even with my career. I *would* take a stab at describing it here, but I get the feeling that my words would be lost on you.  
  
"What's that thing?" I asked.  
  
"That," replied Drakken, grinning, "is the flux capacitor. It's what makes the whole concept of time travel possible." He turned and activated one of the switches at the front, revealing three large digital alarm clocks displaying virtually every criteria of time - year, month, day, hour, minute, second - in LCD form. "First, you switch on the time circuits here. This first clock tells you where you're going, this next one tells you were you are, and this one tells you where you've last been. All you then do is type in wherever you want to go next into this keypad here - you can pre-set the exact second. For example, if you want to go back to the time of my most significant scientific vision ever, you simply enter the digits for July 9th 1988 5:55 am." He did exactly so as he spoke. "Then, you just rev up the car, exceed 90 miles an hour and it takes you right there! ISN'T IT JUST PERFECT?"  
  
"Yeah, it sure is incredible," I admitted. "So what happened back in 1988?"  
  
"Oh, I remember that morning so well! Fifteen years ago, when I was hanging my clock up above my toilet, and I ended up slipping and banging my head against the toilet seat. And then it all hit me - this vision came to me out of nowhere of the flux capacitor! I knew one day that I would prove my genius to the world, and that, if I could just transform that vision into reality, it would be my gateway to doing so! And now, finally, I have done just that! Fifteen whole years. . . " He sighed, suddenly going all nostalgic. "Has it really been that long? I can tell you, things really have changed since then. Back in the eighties, this whole mall used to be a Christmas tree farm."  
  
There was a fairly long pause.  
  
"Well?" I asked. "What are we gonna do now?"  
  
"I suppose go back and see if those pathetic henchmen have got much further in rebuilding my lair, then begin some very in-depth lessons in history." He sighed and admired his beloved vehicle once more. "Still, it is somewhat hard to resist taking this wonderful machine for one more journey first. Back in the eighties, when I'd just dropped out of *college*. . . " he said, with a growl of contempt, " . . . I had this idle dream of going forth and seeing the distant future for myself, if I ever *could* build a time machine. Oh well, even if I did want to go and live that dream out now I'd have to refill the plutonium vault. After Commodore Puddles' little trip, it would only have enough fuel left in it for one more time- jump, and if you did that now, well, you'd never be able to get back."  
  
I'll have to admit that I was thoroughly impressed with Drakken that night. You know, he can surprise you when you least expect it. As we were preparing to leave, however, Commodore Puddles suddenly leapt up growling again; not at us, this time, but at another vehicle heading our way from the distance.  
  
"The FBI?" I cried.  
  
Drakken suddenly froze. "I wish it were . . . Oh my g. . . how the hell did they find me?"  
  
"Don't tell me it's. . ."  
  
"The Knights of Rodeghan! Yes it is! Run for it, Shego! Get out of here, quickly! I'm telling you that sharp claws, green rays and fancy martial arts are no use on this one!"  
  
* * *  
  
* There, I was able to end it on a bit of a cliffhanger after all. Be sure to stay tuned, all fellow fans of 'Back to the Future' and 'Kim Possible' - I intend to make this into a first-rate fanfic over the coming months. Sorry once more if this particular chapter moved a little slow; things will be sure to pick up.* 


	2. 1988

*Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from 'Kim Possible' or 'Back to the Future'.as if I could ever afford them on my allowance. I'm just a fan of both domains having fun. Take it as a compliment.*  
  
Okay, on to Chapter Two:  
  
* * *  
  
Leaping down, I snatched up my Club Banana jacket and ran, then skidded to a halt and paused when I realised that Dr Drakken wasn't following. Instead, he had gone straight for one of his laser guns, holding it up and aiming it in the direction of the fast-approaching vehicle.  
  
"Dr Drakken!" I cried. "What the hell are you doing?"  
  
"I have to protect my Peugeot 626! Don't worry, this laser will penetrate iron armour like scissors penetrate paper! Those knights won't know what hit them!"  
  
Already Commodore Puddles had given up on standing his ground and made a bolt for it, tail hanging between his legs, and emitting dejected whimpers all the while. As the vehicle of doom skidded into the parking lot, with one knight at the wheel, the second suddenly appeared at the sunroof, grasping a Gatling gun tight and heading it straight for Drakken.  
  
"Eat laser-beams, you irresolute knights!" Drakken clamoured, squeezing down hard on the trigger.  
  
Nothing happened. Drakken suddenly froze, panic dripping from his every pore. He tried again. Still nothing. His weapon had failed him. I could feel my own heart bolting like mad just watching. He tried hitting it a couple of times with his bare hands, but that made no difference. Finally, he dropped the futile laser gun down and fell to his knees.  
  
"Listen, I'm really sorry about that bomb I gave you, filled with used pinball parts and all," he snivelled, clasping his hands together tight. "But come on, we're all super-villains together, aren't we? Maybe we can come to some sort of agreement. . ."  
  
The knight wasn't having any of it. Without a word, he pulled his own trigger and open fired.  
  
"Nooooooo!" I found myself screaming.  
  
As I did, the knight turned and noticed me, standing there, still clasping away at my jacket, and fired. I was much too quick for him though, leaping out of the way and bolting behind the cover of the 626.  
  
"Drive!" he ordered his companion. "Don't let that girl get away!"  
  
I tried to make another run for it, but, blunted by high levels of adrenaline as I was, ended up diving out straight before the rampaging knights. The one with the gun took aim once more and I all I could do was just stand there and wince, for a few brief moments too stricken by fear to move, even for my life, bracing myself for the moment I would be hit by the onslaught of metal bullets. And for those few moments, nothing happened. Finally, I heard him curse.  
  
"Rats! Out of ammunition! Hey, get your hands off the wheel and grab the spare!"  
  
I glanced desperately at where Drakken lay, hoping just to see some sign of life, but my hopes were not granted. All I had left was this one chance to get away. But I knew I couldn't do it on foot. All I could do was leap into the 626 and drive. And boy did I drive. No sooner had I begun tearing round the parking lot when I caught sight of the knights, in the rear view mirror, tearing after me in their own.  
  
"Come on, come on," I was saying, just trying to speed the thing up. For those moments, everything I had seen and Drakken had said concerning the car was put on hold. It never even occurred to me that the time circuits would still be on.  
  
I heard more gunshot in my direction, and continued to speed up like a bolt of lightning. 60mph. . . 70mph. . . 80mph. . . all the while having to twist and turn in direction just to avoid being hit by those infernal bullets. They kept on coming, I kept on going, just managing to stay one step ahead. 86. . . 87. . . 88. . . 89. . .  
  
"Alright," I said, under my breath, "let's see if you jerks can do 90. . ."  
  
As I braced myself for the ultimate chase, the car interior suddenly vibrated horribly, there was a blinding flash of bright light, and, looking ahead, I was about to crash into a scarecrow.  
  
Which I did. And a barn, which appeared out of nowhere. You can guess what happened next.  
  
For a while I just lay there in a mangled heap, every body part and organ - heart, lungs, liver, bladder - at utmost strain, barely able to think straight at all. Even when I finally opened my eyes, everything seemed so out of focus. The whole world was little more than a dizzying smear just swimming round and round in my brain. I could hear voices. Not the Knights of Rodeghan, thank the stars - they sounded more like little kids this time; couldn't be older than nine or ten. Looking in the rear-view mirror, I saw the faint glow of a flashlight, and, looking to my left, found myself standing face to face with a somewhat disgruntled looking cow. I suddenly got the feeling I wasn't in the mall parking lot any more. Where I was, I didn't have the slightest clue.  
  
And guess what, I didn't exactly get the warmest of welcomes. For a start, I came too only to have a bunch of little kids screaming, "UFO! UFO!" Then when I dragged myself out, struggling to even stand up, the first thing I saw was a man standing there at the entrance with a shotgun pointed straight at me, the little kids and a dismayed-looking woman flocking around him.  
  
"There, it's already mutated into human form!" one kid shrieked while another fell back in horror. "Shoot it, Daddy! Shoot it!"  
  
"Hey, you'd better watch who you're calling 'it'!" I growled, flexing back and activating the green rays of my gloves. That was the first big mistake I made that day.  
  
The woman and two of the kids screamed.  
  
"It's one of them alright!"  
  
"Kill it, Daddy, before it zaps us all!"  
  
'Daddy' aimed his shotgun and fired both barrels. Fortunately all my training as an offensive agent had taught me how to be nimble. Diving out of the way and evading both bullets, I leapt back into Drakken's car and slammed down hard on the pedal. Then I drove. Right through the barn's wooden wall. I kept on driving, the sounds of that shotgun still ringing sharp in my direction. Through a forest of miniature fur trees and out onto the nearest road I could see. I carried on, keeping my smarting foot pressed down hard, even when I was sure that man and his shotgun were well behind me.  
  
"It's okay Shego," I kept on telling myself. "It's all just a dream. A really, *really* intense dream, but still just a dream!"  
  
I can't remember if I ever actually brought myself to believe it, even for a second. And you can hardly blame me. One minute I'd been in Middleton, being chased around a mall parking lot by a pair of iron-clad jerks, having just witnessed them gun down my boss. Now. . . I was driving past endless farmland, the only hint of human civilisation being a large billboard with a sign reading, *"Coming soon. . . western Middleton development,"* and of course the crudely constructed roads themselves. It made my head ache just trying to piece it together - everything had been such a gut-wrenching slew of rapid heart beat, inner sickness and adrenaline rushes that nothing would focus that blur in my mind. Oh yeah, sure, *you* probably understood the second you read all this. Looking, back, in retrospective, it seems pretty obvious what just happened. I'd escaped the Knights of Rodeghan by driving Drakken's machine right back into the time he'd pre-set it for, and was now racing relentlessly around the less developed Middleton of the year 1988. You have to remember though, at the time, everything had happened to me in less than an hour.  
  
And Drakken.I thought of him suddenly too. Somewhere in that onslaught of hazy memories I had this discomforting vision of him being hit by machine- gun fire and falling. . . falling before the Knights of Rodeghan after his own weapon malfunctioned. Had that been real too? I didn't like where my thoughts were leading me. Could it be that, somewhere in a mall parking lot, in one time zone or another, he was lying there, in a bloody heap, dead, THIS VERY INSTANT? The very idea made my bones chill. Selfish moron though he may often be, Drakken was the only friend I really had. . .  
  
I was so caught up in contending with the deep, dark sickness in my stomach that at first I didn't hear the beeping sound the car was emitting. Nor did I notice the computer screen currently flashing. The engine wheezed and the motors groaned, as the car's acceleration slowly dropped, finally grinding down to a single deadly halt. It finally dawned on me that I should check the flashing screen. It read, plainly, 'Plutonium vault - EMPTY'.  
  
I gave up trying to start it again after about the tenth shot and resolved eventually to begin pushing it, with all the might I could summon, behind the concealment of the billboard sign. I still wasn't sure entirely of the risks involved, but I knew from long experience as his assistant that, if it was Drakken's invention, it couldn't be in the least bit good for anyone to get their hands on. My next problem - I was left stranded out in the middle of nowhere without any transportation but my own feet. The best I could do was walk, and carry on walking. A couple of cars did pass by along the way, but the drivers probably took one look at me and sped away even faster.  
  
It was strange, how light it seemed already. When I'd last checked the time less than one mere hour ago it was 12:31 am in the morning. Now, it seemed to have skipped to dawn in an instant. I had faint memories, becoming bolder all the while, of Commodore Puddles skipping time in that same vehicle - a Peugeot 626 with strange appendages inside and out - and of great flashes of horrific white light. It was all starting to come together, but nothing really hit home until I reached the town.  
  
At long last, I'd come to Middleton. But not Middleton as I'd known it. Everything was so different. The second I set foot in it, I knew something was wrong. At a glance, the town centre seemed pretty much unchanged to how it'd been when I'd gone down there yesterday to check out the deal with that stopped clock. But *that* was the first thing - the clock was ticking. 7:42 am. As far as I'd known, it had been fixated on 10:04 for the last fifteen years. I looked around, more desperately. Was anything right? The clothes everyone was wearing. . . satin jackets, slouch socks, combat boots, neon. So much neon. Headbands and shark tooth necklaces. . . I passed the record store. I glanced at the road. All I could see were DeLoreons as far as the eye could see, with the sounds of Michael Jackson and Cyndi Lauper thundering endlessly in and out my eardrums. In fact, when I took a really good look, this place hardly seemed like Middleton at all. Everything was so. . . vibrant? So eighties.  
  
I remembered Dr Drakken telling me that the hunk of junk went back as well as forward. Feeling into my Club Banana jacket pocket, I rummaged around the various items and fingered a small amount of loose change. Good. . . I needed a drink. A strong one.  
  
"Give me a non-diet cola," I said to the guy at the 'Good Burger' diner. "And don't skimp on the caffeine!"  
  
Good Burger. Hadn't this place been a Mexican joint just yesterday? Bueno Nacho or something?  
  
I took my cola and slumped down at one of the tables, gashing it down in about six seconds, and instantly regretting doing so. I ended up feeling sicker than ever. Looking over at the next table, I saw one girl turning the pages of a newspaper anxiously, and squinting at the front page, managed to scan out the date; July 9th 1988. That's right, I'd just driven several light-years in reverse and smacked down the time barrier on the way.  
  
"Hey, you guys!" a pimply youth yelped, as he came bursting into the diner. "You've gotta come see this! Down at the Christmas Tree Farm - there's been another UFO siting!"  
  
"For real this time?" asked the guy who'd served me.  
  
"You bet! At about six in the morning! Apparently it destroyed Peabody's barn! And, get this - he even reckons he caught sight of the 'thing at the wheel'."  
  
"Whoa! What type was it?"  
  
"From what I've heard, the green and black type that shoots vaporising laser beams from its palms! Something tells me this one hasn't come in peace. . ."  
  
"Cool! I gotta see this before the CIA gets involved. Hey, Porter, cover for me while I'm gone!"  
  
About seven of them leapt up and bolted out the door, while a slightly older man sighed and attended the bar. The anxious girl toying with the newspaper pages didn't budge. She looked over her shoulder at them, wistfully, but finally returned to her paper with a slight jolt.  
  
"Ain't you with them going, Loraine?" the older man asked, in a distinctive southern accent. Looking at this man, I suddenly felt like I recognised him - like I had seen his face in commercials and on the packets of the gross-out junk food that Drakken's henchmen were always stuffing their faces with. Even fifteen years younger, there was no mistaking a man with such a high profile.  
  
"Erm, no. I think I'll just stay here. I don't really think they were asking me. . ."  
  
H sighed. "You know your problem, little lady? You don't have enough gumption! That's why they don't accept you! I mean, look at me! I got gumption! I got ambition! You think I'm gonna be stuck here in this dead end job all my life? No way, Loraine! I'm gonna get out of here! I'm gonna make something of myself!"  
  
"That's right!" I proclaimed, on an impulse. "You're gonna be Pop Pop Porter, owner of America's favorite snack-food corporation!"  
  
"What? What are you talking about, miss?" He smiled. "Yeah! I like the sound of that? America's favorite snack food corporation! Pop Pop Porter - I gotta remember that name! Snack foods - yeah! Thanks, miss!"  
  
"*I* have ambition. . ." the much less enthusiastic girl stammered.  
  
"Well, if you do you sure don't give them many air-holes!" the future Pop Pop Porter said, walking away and continuing to smile.  
  
"But some day. . ." this 'Loraine' sniffed. Concealed behind her newspaper, I caught sight of her fingers, grasped tightly around a tattered- looking binder.  
  
"Ambitions?" laughed another voice from behind.  
  
I jumped just watching. I hadn't noticed the second girl, who looked slightly older than Loraine, and, horribly familiar. It took me much longer to put my finger on the pulse than with that junk food fat-cat, but it came to me eventually. I'd rarely ever seen her over in the early twenty-first century, but Drakken and I were well-acquainted enough with our rival supervillains to get the picture.  
  
"By ambitions, you mean that Club Banana dream? Give yourself a break, Loraine. Don't take this the wrong way, but no self-respecting fashion guru would ever endorse that kind of logo - have you ever even considered the connotations of the word 'banana'?"  
  
"Of course, Amy. Exotic, ripe, loved by all. . ."  
  
"That's not what I'm talking about, Loraine! I'm telling you for your own good, there's just no future in the designer fashion industry. Genetic science - now there's an industry you can set your watch to! Club Banana. . . who were you hoping to sell that half-baked idea to? What kind of mug did you ever expect would consider it?"  
  
Loraine stammered for a few moments. "Well, I was thinking of approaching George M, m,mcFly, and. . ."  
  
I very nearly choked on thin air. Loraine? McFly? Pieced together those names sounded kinda familiar. . .  
  
"George McFly? The top business student?" Her companion giggled loudly once more. "Face it, Loraine, no offence or anything, but you've never had the guts to face up to that guy in your entire career as a college student! What makes you think you can do it now? Did you get carried away to a far- out distant land and get granted a fresh batch of courage by the Wizard of Emerald City or something last night?"  
  
Clearly this DNAmy hadn't yet received her infamous nickname, but, looking at her back then, the ocean of irony she was swimming in was just hilarious. So much so that for the time being I was even able to forget about my own nerve-racking predicament. Talking about ambition and half- baked ideas - over in my time, she was pretty well-known for being virtually the least ambitious of all supervillains. Drakken and I were into ruling the world, Duff Killagan into getting his revenge on all the countries who'd banned him from their golf course (yeah, that'll be the day), and Monkey Fist gaining more and more elusive primate power. DNAmy, well, she kind of flipped when she exhausted the market for cuddly little plush animals, and went about splicing her own genetic mutations in the middle of a snowy mountain, just to get an even bigger collection. Well, from what I hear Kim still got to fight her and she got busted for it in the end (inevitably) but. . . surely you agree it's laughable? Particularly when you consider she was only dissing the future creator of Club Banana, the most successful designer line in the world, Loraine McFly. I remembered reading about her one time over in the day and age when Club Banana would be a thriving market. Never realised until then though that she'd spent time in Middleton. But I knew well in advance that she and this George McFly would some day get together, get hitched and run that planet-sweeping fashion business like a dream. Boy, in the future DNAmy was in for a serious shock.  
  
"Yeah?" I called over to her. "And just what would *you* consider there to be a future in?"  
  
"Hey, check out the finger-nails on you, girl! No offence, but don't they have manicures back where you come from? I've never seen you around."  
  
I wonder just when DNAmy *did* start acting like such a marshmallow? Fifteen years younger she seemed so. . . catty.  
  
"Yeah, well I'm sort of new round here. I'm sure in, oh, I don't know, fifteen years' time, you'll have a better idea who I am, particularly when my partner and I get to the top of the food chain, while you're still stuck in dead-end villainy, splicing animals to create freaks of nature just for the hell of it!"  
  
"Hey, why don't you lay off genetic engineering, claw-girl? 'Scientist Today' reckons it's the profession of the future!"  
  
"Future? In splicing DNA? Ha! World domination. . . now there's a future! Something I'll set *my* watch to! You'll understand one day, DNAmy!"  
  
I departed, leaving her pretty bewildered, and feeling pretty good about myself for about five seconds. I was half-way out the door when it suddenly returned to me. . . over in the year 2003, Drakken had just been gunned down by a pair of terrorist knights, and I was stranded here in the year 1988. My future. Suddenly I didn't feel so spirited any more.  
  
But, hey, that *was* a thought! Drakken! I could remember quite well now some of the stuff he'd been saying at the 626 testing. Something about remembering what Middleton was like fifteen years ago. Something about falling down and banging his head on a toilet seat. Typical Drakken, I suppose. That was why he'd set it for this time, wasn't it? It had been today, at exactly the time I'd arrived here, that he'd had his little accident, and first came up with the idea for that 'flux capacitor' device. So, he was here now, fifteen years younger? Maybe I could find him. Maybe if I did he could get me back to the year 2003. He was the only hope I conceivably had.  
  
"Hey, Mr Porter!" I said, bounding back into the bar and doing my best not to make eye contact with the future DNAmy and Loraine McFly. "Hey, listen, have you any idea where I can find one Dr Drakken here in Middleton?"  
  
"Who? Drakken. . . no, I've never heard of him. Sorry, can't help you, lady."  
  
"Come on, you must know him, this seems like such a small place here in 1988. He's a scientist. . ."  
  
"A scientist, you say? What kind?"  
  
"A mad one."  
  
"Hmmm. Well, the only guy who even comes close is one Drew Lipsky. He's not really an official scientist, but he does spend most of his time carrying out all these far-out experiments. Let's just say the guy isn't exactly renowned for his sanity round these parts, heh, heh!"  
  
"Sounds close enough," I replied. "Alright, where is he?"  
  
"I can't tell you his address offhand, miss, but I'm sure you can find it in any good telephone directory."  
  
"Okay, fine." And I left the joint. The future DNAmy had already disappeared, though Loraine remained, still sitting at her table and toying wistfully with her ring-binder. I knew what I had to do now.  
  
As I began my next quest (to locate a local telephone directory) I happened to pass by a group of young, carefree college boys heading toward one of the parked DeLoreans. Pulling it open, only one of the boys, a calm and attractive guy with a smooth neon jacket, clambered in and took the wheel.  
  
"Cool new DeLorean, George," one of his comrades commented. "How about giving us all a spin later?"  
  
"You got it, guys. Just give me a couple of hours or so. I've got to pick something up at my dad's office at around nine-thirty, then I've got a few more errands to run for people round here. Meet you all back here at about eleven?"  
  
"Yeah, sure. Drive safely, McFly." And they slunk off down a different sidewalk, leaving their friend in solitude.  
  
Then, as he revved up his car and began to drive, I suddenly caught sight of Loraine, the anxious-looking girl I'd met in Good Burger, and future creator of the Club Banana designer line, heading toward the same road, still clasping her binder tightly to her chest. So absorbed in looking anxious, it seemed, that she wasn't thinking to look both ways. I watched in horror as she put her foot out into the gutter, preparing to step out right into the path of the speed-hungry DeLorean. I braced myself. The future of Club Banana was suddenly in serious jeopardy! Its creator was going to get herself killed, and I alone had the power to put things right.  
  
"Hey watch out!" I cried, bolting over in a micro-second and lunging, knocking her forward and clear of the vehicle just inches from collision.  
  
The driver, George, cursed and shook a fist at us as he drove on, disappearing down a turning. "Hey, you girls should be more careful! I almost mowed you both down!"  
  
"Just what were you thinking?" I growled at the bewildered-looking Loraine, as she scrambled to her feet and snatched her binder back up. "You wanna get hit by cars and ground to a bloody pulp on the road?"  
  
"Sorry," she murmured, weakly, and scuttled away.  
  
Shaking my head and sighing, I turned and set about fulfilling my own personal mission, unaware that I had just made my second big mistake that day.  
  
* * *  
  
*Thanks for reading. Stay tuned for Chapter Three, coming soon!* 


	3. Drew Lipksy's outlook

*Again with the disclaimers. . . as much as I wish I did, I don't own KP or BTTF. I'd like to think I've made that clear by now.*  
  
On with Chapter Three:  
  
* * *  
  
It took me a while before I was actually able to locate and flush him out. I roamed round and round 1988 Middleton for hours on end, having ripped the relevant page from the nearest phone book, still sweating with every major difference I saw along the way. I suppose the biggest plus point to being stuck there in the year 1988 was that I could now walk freely round the outside world without fear of any one recognising me from a wanted poster. Considering that the last time I'd experienced this exact year I'd just been a little kid entirely unaware of my destiny as a sidekick to a supervillain, things were as yet predating my turning to the dark side. As I thought about that, I began to wonder if things were currently any different for Dr Drakken, or 'Drew Lipsky' as he seemed to be known as in this day and age. Well, I was going to have to explain myself whether he liked it or not. After about five hours of desperate searching and always taking the wrong turn, I finally arrived at the street and house in which, according to the phone directory at least, my future partner in crime could be found.  
  
It wasn't exactly the prettiest of houses I'd ever seen. In fact, it looked like a total dump, with windows boarded up, cracks in the decaying walls and paint stripped roughly from the door. At first glance, it was pretty hard to imagine that anyone in the right mind would be living there at all, but. . . I suppose this was the future Dr Drakken.  
  
I knocked on the door. Within seconds it opened, and I was standing face to face with a young man who, in spite of the presence of specs, and lack of blue skin, scarred face and wild-eyed glare, there was no mistaking as the younger Dr Drakken. Looking him over, I noticed that he had a large purple bruise on his forehead, which had been plastered over rather clumsily.  
  
I breathed a sigh of relief. "Hi. . . Dr Drakken?"  
  
"Dr Drakken? No, the name's Drew Lipsky, and just what are you doing here? I haven't had any visitors for months. . . no, WAIT! Don't say a word, just come on in!"  
  
"But. . ."  
  
"Not a word, okay! Just come in and keep your mouth shut!" he said, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me rather forcibly in.  
  
The interior of his housing wasn't that much more welcoming than the outside, somewhat devoid of all but the most rudimentary of furniture, and stripped of much of the wallpaper and carpeting. He hauled me into a room containing a large bulk of mind-boggling contraptions, where there sat a small orange cat with its scruffy head wired up to a strange device embroidered with switches and flashing lights.  
  
"Good news, Oliver!" Drew Lipsky proclaimed. "I found another test subject to try this thing out on - a human this time!"  
  
"Test subject?" I stammered, as he removed the wiring from the cat's head and allowed it to slink away down the corridor.  
  
"Here, put this on your head!" he ordered, tossing them to me.  
  
"What? Hey, no way!"  
  
"Please, it's purely in the interests of scientific progress!" he insisted.  
  
"You expect me just to attach these wires to my head? After they were hooked up to *that* cat?"  
  
"What's the problem? Are you allergic to cat hair?"  
  
"Well, no, but. . ."  
  
"Then what's the trouble?" he asked, producing an even more elaborate mass of wire and metal and holding it down on his own head, wincing slightly as it contacted his bruise.  
  
"LOOK! I'm not putting any of this on! I only came here because I. . ."  
  
"Sshhh! I don't want to hear anything more about you! Just out that wiring on your head, and I. . . I will make scientific history by reading your thoughts!"  
  
I wasn't in the mood for arguing with him. I was still majorly stressed just trying to figure out how exactly I was I going to explain myself to him. Oh hey there, Drew, I've just popped over from the year 2003 in a time machine invented by the megalomanic supervillain you're gonna turn out to be in the future, and guess what? I'm officially stranded here in the 1980s and need you to think of a way I can get back. Even in my head it sounded daft.  
  
Sighing, I put the headgear on.  
  
"Okay! Now, complete silence, if you please, while this device processes your innermost mind. . . hmmm, let's see, I'm getting something. . . you've. . . you've come here from a great distance!"  
  
"Yes!" I exclaimed. "As a matter of fact. . . "  
  
"No, don't tell me! Alright. . . you want me to buy a subscription to the Saturday Evening Post!"  
  
"No. . ."  
  
"Hmmm. . . alright, alright - I guess it takes time to really get going. . . okay. . . I'm onto something. . ."  
  
I could see he was looking me over now, eyes fixed on my gloved hands and the very obvious outline of my clawed fingernails within.  
  
"Your fingernails. . . they're so. . . barbed! Wait, that's it! You're scruffy, pale-looking and your nails are over-grown. . . you want me to make a donation to the deprived part of Middleton that can't even afford its own manicure!"  
  
"No, no, no!" I growled, clawing the wiring from my head. "That's not it at all! Listen, Drew Lipksy, I'm from the future, okay? I came here in a time machine that *you* invented, and now I need *your* help to get back to the year 2003!"  
  
He stared, bewildered. Then he just smiled, all of a sudden, half-gasping. "Great Scott! You're from the future. . . you know what this means, don't you?"  
  
"No. What?"  
  
"IT MEANS THIS STUPID THING DOESN'T WORK!!!!!" he roared, tearing off his own headgear in fury and giving it several good kicks. "For crying out, loud, what am I doing wrong? I'm certain I could read Oliver's mind perfectly. . . maybe it's only been wired to tune into the feline brain. . . I'll have to check this out!"  
  
"Yeah, well, getting back to my problem here, Lipsky, I seriously need your help! You were the only one over in my time who knew how that time machine works!"  
  
"Time machine? I haven't built a time machine in my life. . ."  
  
"No, you haven't built a time machine at *this* stage of your life. The future you - he'll build a time machine and somehow or other I'll wind up going back fifteen years and end up back here with the current you!"  
  
"You really expect me to believe that you're from the year 2003?" he asked, his face merging into a familiar glare, as he gathered together his headgear. "What do you take me for? The way I see it, one of two things is going on here, girl - either you're crazy, and you just busted your way out of the nearest asylum, or, quite simply, you're just another one of those futile jerks who finds the need to come and laugh at me just because I happen to be a genius and because they hate the notion of someone being smarter than they are! And let me tell you, if you happen to fall into the latter category, that, in spite of your cruel jokes, I *am* a genius, and one day THE ENTIRE WORLD WILL BE FORCED TO RECOGNISE IT!!!"  
  
Oh yeah, this was the future Drakken alright.  
  
"Okay, then Lipsky!" I said, feeling into my jacket pocket, and pulling out my credit card holder. "I'll prove it to you. Look at my ID! See the date of birth? If I was born in *that* year, I wouldn't be this old now then, would I? And look - check out this photo taken of me a couple of years ago in my time. The jacket I'm wearing clearly says 'Club Banana 2000'! They made that line to tie in with the new millennium - which is still twelve years away now! See?"  
  
He snatched up the photo and studied it for a few moments, then stuffed it back into my hand. "Proves nothing! Cheap, mediocre fake photography. . . couldn't even transfer the entire jacket in the developing lab - half of one of the sleeves is missing!"  
  
I didn't take the bait and pocketed it once more with out looking. "Come on, I'm being serious here! You'd better start believing me, Lipsky, or. . ."  
  
"Alright then, future-girl, tell me this - who's President of the United States in the year 2003?"  
  
"George Bush."  
  
"Ha! You mean that hack who's trying to run next year? Like he'll ever make it into the White House in a billion years, let alone fifteen. . . the least you could have done is come up with a more convincing background story!"  
  
"No, that's George Bush Snr! I mean George Bush Jnr! And besides. . ."  
  
"Listen, I don't need this! I've got enough problems as it is without you ranting on at me! I think I've had my fill of practical jokes for today, wouldn't you, so, if you'll excuse me, I have work to be doing!" Clutching his headgear and a collection of tools, he made for the corridor without looking back, bustling out a back door and heading for the rustic garage in his pitiful back yard.  
  
"Hey, come back! You can't just walk out on me like this! I need your help here!" I shrieked, spurting after him.  
  
He slammed the shed door hard, bolting it for good measure.  
  
"LISTEN TO ME!" I could have easily activated the rays in my gloves and torn the door down in a flash, but I couldn't risk alienating him further. He was tough enough as it was. "I'M NOT LYING!" I felt like banging my head against the door in frustration, when it came to me. "I REALLY AM FROM THE FUTURE! I know how you got that bruise on your head - you told me! You were hanging up your clock above your toilet, when you slipped and banged your head on the toilet seat, and then you suddenly got the idea for. . . oh, what's that stupid device?. . . the flux capacitor! That's it!"  
  
A few silent seconds. Then, the door finally reopened, and he stepped out, looking much whiter than before.  
  
-  
  
"Okay! It's should be right over there! Pull over!" I ordered, as we neared the billboard sign I'd passed earlier.  
  
Drew Lipsky did just so, steering his car to the side of the road, at which I leapt out and raced round to the other side of the notice, to find, much to my relief, the 626 still present and all in one piece.  
  
Drew followed, as soon as he got the chance. "Is this it, Shego? Where's the flux capacitor?"  
  
"Right there inside the vehicle. Along with everything else. This is it - the time machine that brought me here into the past."  
  
"My present," he corrected, opening the car door. "Wow! I don't believe it - the flux capacitor, exactly as I envisioned it! Look!" He reached into his pocket and tore out a very tattered but nonetheless fully legible rough biro drawing on a piece of toilet paper. A sketch of the very same device. "It works! Can you believe it? I actually go on to invent something that works! This is incredible! I always knew I was a genius, but. . . this is just too brilliant!"  
  
"Yeah, it sure is. Okay, Drew, now I've brought you here, what are we going to do now?"  
  
"We'll have to find some way of sneaking this thing back to my house, I suppose."  
  
"Right now? Shouldn't we wait until it gets dark? I don't think attracting anyone else's attention with this thing would be a very good idea."  
  
"I don't think there's much chance of that. Everyone seems to have abandoned Middleton today and flocked down to Farmer Peabody's Christmas tree farm. I can't imagine why. . . must be a party on or something. Which I note that I WASN'T INVITED TO!"  
  
"Okay, and then what?" I asked, flinching.  
  
"We can hide it in my garage. Then, we'll have to figure out a way to get you back home!"  
  
-  
  
It took us a while to escort the broken-down 626 back through the streets of Middleton and into the concealment of Drew's rustic garage, but, as Drew had predicted, the place had virtually become a ghost town since breakfast. I had an uneasy feeling about that, deep down, but, for the time being at least, it was something we could take full advantage of.  
  
"Whoa, this is the most stylish looking car I've ever seen," Drew commented, once we had it safely in his garage, with the door bolted. "And to think, it can really travel through time! An idle dream no longer. . ."  
  
"Unless of course you can't figure out a way to get it fixed!" I asserted. "Right now, it's about as effective a time machine as my jump-suit!"  
  
"Well, I'll give it my best shot, Shego. First, I'll have to figure out how it works. Which won't be easy, looking at the state of things. Do you have any idea how exactly this device functions yourself?"  
  
My brains suddenly started to hurt. "Well, in the year 2003 you did explain it very vaguely to me. . . something about time circuits. That's it! You turn on the time circuits and those three LCD clocks should display where you are, where you're going, and where you've just been. Time-wise I mean."  
  
"Okay, then what?"  
  
"You enter the time you want next using the keypad there. Then you just rev up the vehicle and go. Which would be easy, only I can't even get it to rev up any more. It's gone completely dead!"  
  
"Maybe it's just out of power," Drew suggested. "Hmmm, that would be a start. . . have you any idea how much power a thing like this needs to get going?"  
  
"Hey, you told me this one too! Come on, I know I stored it away in here somewhere. . erm. . . I do know it, I just need to think . . come on. . . I got it! I remember! 1.21 gigawatts!"  
  
He looked blank. Then he screamed. He screamed and smacked his forehead with his fist, screamed and grabbed himself by a sleeve, squeezing tight, screamed and bolted out clean out of the garage, still screaming all the while.  
  
"Hey, come back here!" I called after him as he darted back into his house.  
  
"1.21 GIGAWATTS????? YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS! OH, HOW COULD I HAVE BEEN SO CARELESS? HOW? HAVE I GONE COMPLETELY INSANE IN THE YEAR 2003 OR SOMETHING?"  
  
"What's the problem?" I asked, skidding inside.  
  
He was burying his face in a cushion, collapsing back on his battered couch. "1.21 gigawatts. . . oh man, what have I done? What have I done to this world?"  
  
"WHAT?" I was starting to get pretty freaked out myself at this stage. "What *have* you done?"  
  
"I don't know!" he sobbed. "All I know. . . is that it's just not possible to make that kind of power. It can't be done. I'm sorry, Shego, but you're stuck here."  
  
"Tell me this is all just part of *your own* practical joke!" I growled.  
  
"Hey, the year 1988 isn't so bad. You'd only have to wait another fifteen years before you got back to 2003. Then you could just pick up your life as you left off."  
  
"Fifteen years? I can't wait that long! I'd be like 40 when the year 2003 finally roles around again, and you really expect me just to pick up my life as I left it off?"  
  
"Hey, it could be a hell of a lot worse!" he countered. "You could have gone back fif-*ty* years! Then what would you have done?"  
  
"Besides everything else I have a life back in the year 2003! I'm used to the ways of the early 21st century. I just couldn't get used to the late eighties, they're too. . . vibrant!"  
  
"Well, what do expect me to do? I can't make that kind of power. . ."  
  
"Come on, all it takes is a little plutonium."  
  
"PLUTONIUM? Listen, future-girl, I'm sure that in the year 2003 plutonium is available in every corner drug store, but this is 1988, and I gotta tell you - it's pretty scarce right now! No, the only other thing in existence capable of generating 1.21 gigawatts would be a bolt of lightning, but, have you ever tried to capture a lightning bolt? That's the problem with lightning, you never know when and where it's gonna strike."  
  
Heart beating fast, I dived my hand deep into my pocket once more.  
  
"We do now!" I said, showing him the flier I'd picked up earlier.  
  
Hesitating, he took it and began reading. Finally, the smile returned to his face. "Fifteen years ago, on 16th July, at precisely 10:04pm, the Middleton centre clock was struck by a bolt of lightning!" he proclaimed, scanning the words off the flier. "This is perfect, Shego! If we can harness that lightning bolt, in exactly one week's time we may just be able to return you to the year 2003. NEXT SATURDAY NIGHT WE'RE SENDING YOU BACK TO THE FUTURE!"  
  
"Yay! That's cool! I can spend a week here in 1988, no trouble!"  
  
"Oh yes. . ." he purred, rubbing his hands together. "I can't wait to get you down to my old college and present you to those three so-called 'friends' of mine - that would sure wipe the smiles off their faces, after they all laughed at me, when they see that I'm destined to create the world's first working time machine. . . oh, heck no! What was I thinking? You can't just go outside and live it up when you've travelled backwards in time! Anything you do can have an adverse effect on the time continuum. You can end up completely destroying the future as you knew it! In just hope you haven't been interacting with anyone else today, Shego!"  
  
I jolted, and cast my mind back. "Well. . . inevitably. . . with a few people, maybe."  
  
"Just a few?"  
  
"Nothing really. I just terrified a farmer, ordered a cola, informed one fast food joint employee of his future, taunted a future geneticist and. . . saved Loraine McFly, future creator of Club Banana, from being run over. . . by her future husband, George McFly. . ."  
  
Suddenly, I didn't like the way that last one sounded. Neither did Drew Lipksy.  
  
"I assume she isn't known as 'McFly' right now?" he asked.  
  
"I guess not, if they've yet to meet and get married. I don't know what her surname currently is. . ."  
  
"And they haven't yet met?"  
  
I thought back. "No, from what she was telling DNAmy in that diner, she hasn't yet had the guts to approach him. From what I saw, she's a serious wimp, that Loraine. . . no wonder she needed the help of the top business student to get Club Banana launched!"  
  
"And, tell me, by any chance was that business student this same George McFly?" He was actually starting to look pretty worried.  
  
"Yes. . ."  
  
"Oh, that can't be good."  
  
"What? They'll have other chances to meet, won't they?"  
  
"Well, not having been there myself, and not having the benefit of hindsight on the years to come, unlike you, it's difficult to judge, but from what I can piece together. . . you just stopped them from ever meeting! For good! If you hadn't been there, Shego, then I imagine that this Lorraine *would* have been run down. . . and it was how she and this George McFly would have met. Complete dumb luck. Otherwise, this Lorraine was too cowardly to have approached him on her own. . . Club Banana? That sounds familiar. . . didn't you mention it earlier? Of course, show me that photograph again!"  
  
I could feel my hand trembling as I removed it from my pocket and handed it over.  
  
"Of course, this validates my theory!" he exclaimed, studying it. "The time continuum has been disrupted. . . the last time I saw this photo, half of one of your Club Banana 2000 jacket sleeves appeared to have been cut off. Now. . .just look for yourself."  
  
I could feel my innards shaking as I made my way over and finally summoned the courage to take a glance. I gasped. "Hey, what the heck happened? An entire sleeve's just disappeared! It wasn't like that when I first had it taken - both sleeves were fully intact!" I paused. "It's like. . . like it's just been erased. . ."  
  
"Bingo!" replied Drew. "You have any idea what you've just done? YOU JUST WIPED THIS CLUB BANANA LOGO CLEAN FROM EXISTENCE!"  
  
"No way! See this jacket I'm wearing right now? It's Club Banana too. See, check out this logo on the inside of the collar! If all Club Banana items were being erased from the time continuum, surely this one would be disappearing too?"  
  
"When did you buy that particular jacket?"  
  
"It's the very latest."  
  
"So, 2003?"  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
"Things would obviously disappear in the order that they were made. This 2000 jacket would be the first to go. . . in time that one you're wearing, from 2003, would gradually begin to disappear too. . . there you have it. Things always seem to have a natural way of working out in life - unless of course, man, or, in this case, woman, finds the need to interfere! You know what this means, don't you? It means that the future you're about to return to has been completely disrupted! You could get back and find it twisted beyond recognition!"  
  
"Because of the absence of one designer logo?" I asked.  
  
"Hey, it's impossible to estimate just how much balance that logo gave to the society you knew. You'd be amazed at the damage that one small mistake could do - just imagine it, these two kids never met, Club Banana was never created, result - kids of the future are deprived of the designer clothing they crave and lust for, without this need satisfied, they become bored and irritated, and start to become more aware of each other's inner flaws. A whole new generation grows up, no doubt, confused, frustrated and paranoid, unable to trust another individual who comes within ten feet from them, even worse still, exploited by corporations who want to cash in on their misery by feeding them again and again the idea that their neighbour is their deadliest enemy, by means of selling products for offence and protection. In the end, this world-wide lack of trust gets really bitter. Someone turns on another someone. It all starts out small, but believe me, it gets bigger and bigger with every second that passes, until all-out war is declared - everybody against everybody, and I'm not pulling any punches! You could get back to 2003 to find that civilisation has completely fallen, and you're one of the very few left! Of course, that's just an extreme example, but I'm sure you get my drift."  
  
Once more, I found that I could barely stand up straight. The world was beginning to blur all over again. It had never occurred to me just how important these designer logos could be. Why hadn't I thought of that before? It wasn't just about looking good and staying ahead of everyone else. It was about civilisation. "Oh, geez, this is so. . . heavy!"  
  
"Weight has nothing to do with it, Shego!" Drew asserted. "You only have one option here. If you want to return to a future world worth living in, you're going to have to sort this one out yourself. Somehow, you've got to fix it so that wimp Loraine still goes on to initiate this Club Banana logo! And you have until the 16th of June to put everything right, without disrupting the time continuum further. . . you just broke the time barrier, Shego, and now you've only got one week to get it fixed!"  
  
* * *  
  
*Thanks for reading. I appreciate your interest. Chapter Four will be on the way shortly, though I have a busy week ahead, so don't expect it to come quite as quickly as I brought you Chapter Three after adding Chapter Two. Later.* 


	4. Breakfast at Good Burger

*Disclaimer - Blah, blah, blah. . . don't own KP. . . bling, bling, bling. . .or BTTF. . . blah. . .*  
  
Here's Chapter Four of my KP/BTTF fusion. As readers requested, this is the chapter in which Shego encounters the 1988 Kim, among other things. Enjoy!  
  
* * *  
  
I spent the whole night going to pieces. Hey, you would too if you suddenly found that burden on your shoulders - the course of the time continuum in my deadly, ray-spurting hands? Great, it was all I needed! It was tough enough being put up in Drew Lipsky's house for the night - his guest bedroom was probably the leakiest in the entire building, and believe me, that says a heck of a lot!  
  
When the morning of 10th July 1988 finally came, I got up and found Drew back in his garage, examining the 626 and drawing up further sketches.  
  
"Okay, Shego, all we have to do is find some way of channelling that bolt of lightning into the flux capacitor," he explained. "Here's what I propose we do - we attach some sort of pole to the flux capacitor to protrude from the 626 and act as a lightning rod. Then, we attach an industrial wire to the great clock and link it to another wiring suspended across the street by two streetlights. The bolt of lightning strikes, hits the clock and travels through that wiring. Using regular gas, we can supply the 626 with just enough energy to rev up, if not break the time barrier. If we do all the correct math beforehand, we can time it so that you'll drive beneath the second cord of wiring and reach 90 mph just as the current passes through. The lightning rod will take care of everything else. . ."  
  
"Well, if it doesn't ignite me in the process, it's worth a try."  
  
"Of course. . . provided you have much of a future to get back to. Have you figured out how to get through to this Loraine?"  
  
"How hard can it be?"  
  
"Well, for your sake and for that of everyone else on the planet fifteen years from now, I hope not hard. Repairing the damage you did to the Club Banana franchise is the only sure-fire way you can back to the future as you knew it - working as my assistant. I'd imagine that's a pretty rewarding career."  
  
"Hey, I wouldn't swap it for a job in Starbucks."  
  
"Starbucks? What the heck is that?"  
  
"It's not important." I sighed. "Listen, Drew, there's something I haven't yet told you about the future. On the night I go back in time. . ."  
  
"Stop! I don't want to hear!" he protested, covering his ears. "I already know too much about my destiny as it is! If I end up learning any more, I dread to think what kind of impact it would have on the temporal continuum! Didn't yesterday teach you anything at all, Shego? Don't worry about me, I know what I've got to do. You know what you've got to do, now get out there and do it!"  
  
I studied that photograph. Already my Club Banana 2000 jacket was starting to seriously ladder.  
  
I decided to head back to Good Burger, where I'd encountered Loraine previously. Sure enough, there she was, still clutching her ring binder protectively and toying with today's paper. 10th July 1988. That date was beginning to plague me.  
  
"Hey," I said, springing down at her table. "Loraine?"  
  
"Erm, yeah. . . that's m,m,me. . ."  
  
"Surname?"  
  
"Erm. . . Baines."  
  
"Recognise me, Loraine Baines?"  
  
"Erm. . ."  
  
"I saved you from getting knocked down yesterday, for crying out loud!"  
  
"Oh yeah. . . now I remember you. . . thanks, it was pretty cool. . . of you."  
  
Glancing around, something really was up inside Good Burger today. Outside too. . . bizarre. It was bad enough going back fifteen years to an age that had become the subject of horror stories in the age I was used to. Having to watch things screw up even further round here was just cruel.  
  
"Hey, what's wrong with this place today?" I enquired. "Why's everyone carrying all these weapons around with them?"  
  
Shotguns, tasers, baseball bats - Jake and Porter were even armed with two disturbingly cumbersome fish slices. And every movement made was made with caution, every look on every face was shifty.  
  
"Are we under attack or something round here?" I asked.  
  
"Maybe," replied Loraine. "You haven't heard about the visitor?"  
  
"Visitor?"  
  
"To our planet!" She paused. "From out of space. . .it arrived yesterday morning. . .and destroyed the barn at Peabody's Christmas Tree Farm, then disappeared. . .well, the police can't explain it, but the people of m, m, Middleton - they know something's up."  
  
"You believe in extra terrestrials?" I was having another flashback - driving the 626 through a wooden barn and having a farmer hurl his shotgun- fire at me on my very first morning in 1988 - and another very bad feeling along with it.  
  
"Oh yeah - you know just how big the Universe is? I guess I'd say if it is just us, it seems like an awful waste of space!" It was the only issue so far that she sounded particularly confident on. "The only question I suppose is, do they come in war or peace? This one, they reckon, came in war. Apparently, it had the. . .ability to sort of. . .mutate. . .into human form, and fire some sort of. . .green plasma rays from it's hands- stroke-paws. People round here have to take up arms to protect themselves. . .I mean, that visitor could be running loose around Middleton as we speak. . .who even knows where it is right now?"  
  
"Mystery of life, I suppose," I muttered. This whole confusing me with ET thing was really starting to leave me insulted (I mean, have you ever seen that little guy? Not to mention those ghastly little interlopers from 'Close Encounters' - freeeeaky, as my fellow villain Adrena Lynn would say).  
  
Note to self, I thought - weak link identified in Loraine's grasping chain of insecurity. Further note to self, beware of using green plasma power at any point out here, even in moments of self-defence. I still had my martial arts and lightning speed.  
  
"Hey, what's in the ring binder?" I asked, steering back to my personal mission.  
  
"My designs. . .something I do, you know, in my spare time. . . I design logos. . .for clothes."  
  
"May I see them?"  
  
"NO! I never, never let anyone else see my designs. I mean, what if someone didn't like them? What if someone told me I was no good? I just don't think I could take that kind of rejection!"  
  
"Even with George McFly?"  
  
She went pale. Much paler than me. Then she got up and left. Quickly, without looking back. You can guess what I was asking myself repeatedly inside my head all the while - how did such a total drip go on to create such cool and planet-sweeping clothes? What could George McFly have even seen in her in the normal course of time? Maybe everything had all been out of pity.  
  
So, the 10th July 1988 yielded little fruit. But I was just getting started. The next day, on the 11th, I made a point of getting up extra early, ambushed the unsuspecting Loraine on her way to Good Burger, stuffed her into the nearest alley and, without hesitation, activated the green rays in my gloves, right before her very eyes.  
  
"Okay, earthling! I didn't really wanna have to do it this way, but you gave me no choice!"  
  
She screamed.  
  
"You'd better shut that up right now, or I'll have no choice but to zap your puny, earthly brain to fragments! That's right - I can shoot these things at will anytime I want, anywhere I want! And these claws too - you think I could have just got them this way by sculpting regular human fingernails? Ha!"  
  
"You're the visitor? W, what do you want from me?" she stammered.  
  
"I've come to your world, earthling, from a very great distance, leaving my home in the Starbucks Solar System to accomplish a very important mission of destiny! To seek you out, Loraine Baines, and warn you - if you don't summon the courage to face up to this George McFly, you'll be unable to avert the terrible disaster heading for your world!"  
  
"Disaster? Like what?"  
  
"Well, for starters, these rays will be going straight through your frontal lobe! And you don't even wanna hear what my claws have in store for your digestive tract!"  
  
I shoved her back into Good Burger, where George McFly was hanging at a table with his posse. "I'll be watching you, Loraine! Remember, if you don't get right over there and ask McFly on a date, I'll be heading back to Starbucks with your skull as an ashtray!"  
  
She gulped hard and wandered over to his table. I sat down at a table of my own and got a front-seat view of all events. I saw them talking; couldn't hear what they were saying above the sounds of Huey Lewis blasting through the radio loudspeakers, and those of a baby wailing in the corner of the diner, but I saw it all quite clearly. Finally, Loraine returned, looking even paler than yesterday.  
  
"He said no!" She threw herself down at me, clasping both hands together and looking up at me with emotive, puppy-dog eyes. "I'm sorry I failed you, Shego of Starbucks! I did all that was in my power to do! Please don't melt my brains with your destructive green rays!"  
  
"Ssshhh! Keep it down! You gotta keep my identity a secret, remember? You want me to wind up in some science lab having people prod me with cattle-rods all day long?" I guessed that I'd guessed right yesterday after all. It must have all been out of pity. It was difficult not to pity this girl. In an odd sort of way, she kind of reminded me of Dr Drakken. "Okay, so why would this George guy say no?"  
  
"I guess because he thinks I'm a total drip. . ."  
  
"And boy, would he be right! You are a drip, Loraine! And you'll be a drip for the rest of your life if you don't try and make something of yourself!"  
  
I could, and would, have gone on, but just then that same pimply youth from before burst in again. "Hey, you guys! They're here! The CIA are here!"  
  
"Are you sure about this?" asked Jake.  
  
"You bet I'm sure! We saw their helicopters flying over and everything! You gotta come see!"  
  
"Porter, cover for me again!" order Jake, disappearing once more, along with pretty much the same crowd from the other day. McFly and his posse stayed put, merely shaking their heads. Loraine didn't move either. She was still looking up at me, and still white with fear. In the corner, the young couple who owned the baby (all of whom looked strangely familiar, as you may have guessed), sprang up with greater enthusiasm.  
  
"CIA? Only once in a blue moon do you get something like that happening in Middleton," proclaimed the male. "Come on, let's go see! Maybe they'll even make contact this time!"  
  
"Wait, honey!" the female protested. "Think about it - CIA officials and dangerous extra terrestrials? It doesn't exactly sound like a safe scene to take our Kimmy along to! We'll have to find someone to watch over her before we go. . . hey, Loraine Baines!" She moved toward our table. "Hi, Loraine. You're a safe and reliable girl, aren't you? Could you possibly watch our Kimmy for us while we go check this CIA thing out?"  
  
"Sure thing, Dr Possible," she replied, taking the baby in her arms as its parents scuttled off.  
  
I had to really restrain digestive system just to stop myself from hurling all over the table. "Dr Possible? Kimmy? Don't tell me that baby is really. . .Kim Possible?"  
  
"Yeah. . .I know," Loraine sighed, looking uneasy once more. "I'd imagine that, with a name like that, the other kids would, you know, m, m, make fun of her when she starts at kindergarten, but, well, what can you do?"  
  
"Of course. . .hey, Loraine, pass her over! Let me see her!"  
  
"I don't know. . .Dr Possible gave her to me to protect her from, erm, dangerous visitors, and you're. . .erm, you know. . ."  
  
"Just give her over, okay? She's an essential part of my mission too! If you don't hand her across, why the whole future of your planet will be in jeopardy!"  
  
"Really?" Without much hesitation, she shoved my future mortal enemy right over to me.  
  
"Hello there, Kimmy," I purred. "So good to have run into you out here - I gotta tell you, it's quite a surprise!"  
  
Yeah, she looked so sweet and innocent and all that right now that it was pretty hard to contemplate who exactly she'd grow up to be - that crime- busting, world-saving heroine who'd readily bestow painful defeat after painful defeat upon Dr D and I. The times we'd come just sooo close to success if not for her. . .and the many times I'd tried to destroy her in her teenage form but constantly failed. . .well, here she finally was, oblivious and totally incapable of fighting me back, and it would only take one spurt of my destructive green rays to erase her from the course of time forever, much like it had only taken one ill-judged shove to wipe the Club Banana temporal slate clean. Drew Lipsky probably wouldn't like it if he knew, but hey. . .what did he know about this anyway? He would be grateful if he knew all the trouble this one kid would cause him in the years to come. Just imagine - if I got rid of Kim, right here, right now, then maybe on Saturday night I could return to a 2003 in which we ruled the world already, and in which the absence of Club Banana wouldn't make a shred of difference. Why would I have to fear civilisation disintegrating? We'd run the freaking civilisation! Plus, Drakken would probably never have been gunned down by those knights. . .I'd struck temporal gold - but I couldn't carry my obligation out here. . .I'd have to get away somehow first. No problem - Loraine was hardly an obstruction.  
  
"Okay, Loraine," I said, standing up. "I'm getting out of here now. Maybe I'll see you around one day, when my solar system's masterplan begins to unfold round here - I think they said something about monopolising your planet's coffee industry first off. . .well, goodbye."  
  
"Hey, wait! You can't just. . .take Dr Possible's kid! I was told to watch over her - Dr Possible would kill me!"  
  
I was about to throw her a comeback of, "Well, good luck, goodbye and keep watching the skies!", when our confrontation was suddenly interrupted by that imposed by an all-too recognisable voice.  
  
"Hey, Baines! I thought I told you yesterday never to come in here again!"  
  
I looked behind. The future DNAmy. She was back. And she was standing there, looking pretty peeved.  
  
Loraine flinched. "Yeah. . .sorry, Amy. . .I guess I got carried away. . .I'll just be on my way. . ."  
  
"Oh, for goodness sake, girl - stand up for yourself already!" I cried. "You're just gonna let some loser to-be geneticist push you around for the rest of your life?"  
  
"Hey, I know you!" Amy said quickly. "You're that same girl I met in here the other day, aren't you? Well, no offence or anything, but that Loraine's a total geek, and you. . .you're a total freak! I'm actually glad that I ran into you again - I've been thinking about all that stuff you said. . .world domination? You still reckon that's a worthy ambition, do you?"  
  
"Yeah! Too bad you couldn't swing it!"  
  
"Couldn't I?" She raised an eyebrow. "I'll admit that it never really crossed my mind beforehand, but now that you mention it, I'd reckon that with my ever-increasing knowledge of genetic science, one of these days I'm sure to be in a pretty good poise for such a feat!"  
  
I laughed. "Splicing up animal genes?"  
  
"Hey, I *could* take over the world if I wanted to!" she retorted. "And every time I run into people like you, claw-girl, who ridicule the whole basis of genetic science, it makes me feel more and more enticed all the while! Maybe you'll see one day. . .until then, watch yourself, claw-girl! If I ever, you know, decide that maybe I want to rule this planet after all, I may just decide to make it very difficult for all those who doubted my potential back in the old days!"  
  
"Hey, Amy." Loraine quivered. "You probably. . .shouldn't talk to her like that. She's not what you think. . ."  
  
"True." I smiled. Probably not all that pleasantly.  
  
"Really?" said Amy, grinning. "And just *what* could she do to me? Aside from having claws like an aye-aye, somehow I doubt she's all that dangerous. Geeks and freaks. . .both your types, if you ask me, would be pretty darn easy to walk over when I finally do come to rule this totally unhip world!"  
  
"Hey, watch it!" I snapped, grasping KP in one arm and activating the glove on my free hand. The third really big mistake I made that week. I wish I hadn't let myself get so carried away.  
  
People screamed. McFly's posse yelled. Lorraine dived beneath the table, while Amy backed away fast. A few moments silence in which the earth stood still, then. . .  
  
"THERE IT IS!!!" hollered a friend of McFly's, pointing directly at me. "THERE'S THE VISITOR!!!!"  
  
"SHOOTING DEADLY GREEN RAYS FROM ITS HANDS AND ALL!!!"  
  
"AND MUTATED INTO HUMAN FORM!!!"  
  
"SOMEBODY DO SOMETHING!!!"  
  
Those weapons - shotguns, baseball bats, tasers, fish slices - just then it all came flooding back to me. I thought fast. I was sleek, I was agile, I could run faster than a cow passing a leather factory - but I couldn't possibly have evaded such a vicious onslaught of weapons all coming on at once. What I needed was some sort of emotional shield. Which, lucky me, I already had, right in the form of the future world-saving heroine I was currently holding.  
  
"Alright, people!" I cried, holding the young Kim Possible up high for them all to see. "See this little kid right here? Fire on me and you're gonna have to risk taking her down too!"  
  
Then, I made a run for it, lunging out into the streets of Middleton and scanning the area desperately for the least conspicuous escape route on offer. Already people from Good Burger were following, screaming and alerting all those on the streets in the process. I had to evade some gunshot, but not much.  
  
"Hey, knock it off!" George McFly said, racing over to the wielder of that particular shotgun. "You wanna risk hitting that *human* baby too?"  
  
Surprisingly, Kim seemed entirely unaffected by the whole experience, hardly making any noise at all. That's always been her trouble, I suppose - the kid was just too darn brave. Still clutching her tight, I raced off down that same alley in which I'd cornered Loraine earlier, scrambling over the fence at the back and bounding through a string of square backyards, finally finding myself on a clearer street. But sadly not for long. Wherever I ran, people almost always seemed to gather, and gather quickly, still grasping their weapons and screaming whenever I came closer than ten feet to their proximity, alerting the entire neighbourhood of my current whereabouts in the process.  
  
"Don't forget about little Kimmy here!" I'd hold her up once again, whenever they and their weapons got too close for comfort to me.  
  
Finally, after a chase which seemed to endure for two hours (but which later, when I checked my watch, it turns out only lasted for ten minutes) in which I'd managed to evade each and every mob that came at me (hey, I'd done pretty much the same with the FBI and government officials over in the 21st century), I found myself darting down an empty street. Or, empty for about six seconds, when a small vehicle suddenly came zooming onward from the opposite direction. Shrieking, I leapt clear. It skidded and u- turned, giving me enough time to identify the driver before I started running again - the future DNAmy, with her hands greased up good on the steering wheel.  
  
"Hey, ET, don't think you can just outrun this thing!" she called after me. "You're going nowhere fast, sweetie; this thing can do 90!"  
  
"And I can do 110!" I retorted, speeding up and taking a slight sudden turning.  
  
She probably wasn't expecting that, for she sped onward in a straight track for a few more yards before skidding to a halt, reversing and turning. Neither was she expecting me to be hanging round and lying in wait for her as she took that turning, as she seemed genuinely surprised when I bounded out and slashed both her front tyres out.  
  
"Later, Amy!" I called, as I made my getaway. "Much, much later!"  
  
-  
  
I can't express just how relieved I was to finally get back to Drew Lipsky's house - once a leaky, insomnia-inducing shack, it had transformed into my valuable haven within one morning. I almost embraced those cracked, unstable-looking walls upon arrival, but I was just too eager to get down and take cover before someone spotted me again. It was sad, you know. . .already I'd blown the sweet fact that in 1988 I wasn't a wanted fugitive. And now I'd have more than just the FBI on my trail. I'd just been mistaken for a violent extra terrestrial in an extremely paranoid suburban town, with the CIA supposedly already on the scene, in a time zone I didn't understand. And I'd just kidnapped a baby into the bargain. Not just any baby, mind you. Kim Possible as a baby. I was still holding her, and she was still refusing to whine. Good thing, I suppose - I didn't want to draw attention to my whereabouts.  
  
"Hey, Shego, how's it going?" asked Drew as I wandered into his garage, still gasping for breath.  
  
"Not good," I replied, slumping down against the garage wall, and holding Kim in both hands. I suppose I should have finished her off once and for all at that point, but I wasn't going to - it occurred to me that it might be a good idea to hang onto my emotional shield for a little while longer, you know, in case anything happened, which it was very likely to.  
  
"So, this Loraine's proving harder than you thought?" he asked. He didn't look up. It took him ages to even twig that I now had an infant on me.  
  
"Uh-huh, but that's not the problem. Drew, I think. . .I think I just made things round here a whole lot worse. I think I just turned this place into the second Roswell. . ."  
  
***  
  
*NOTE: Although I was around in 1988, I can't remember if the 16th July really was a Saturday in that year (I didn't exactly have a great concept of dates and figures at the time). What are the odds that I lucked out on that one? One in seven - not high. Drew Lipsky's line in the previous chapter about it being a Saturday was taken directly from 'Back to the Future' Part I - it's just too cool a quote to be omitted! But I don't know how accurately it was used here. Either way, don't worry about such teeny-tiny little nitpicks and holes in logic, as viewers always tend to do with such fabulous films as the 'Back to the Future' trilogy - they're not important. To quote from a sequence in 'Austin Powers II' (right before a BTTF reference, appropriately enough):  
  
Austin: So, Basil, if I travel back to 1969 and I was frozen in 1967, I could go look at my frozen self. But, if I'm still frozen in 1967, how could I have been unthawed in the 90's and travelled back to the Sixties? [goes cross-eyed] Oh, no, I've gone cross-eyed.  
  
Basil: I suggest you don't worry about those things and just enjoy yourself.  
  
[to camera] That goes for all you too.  
  
Thanks for reading - the story will continue with Chapter Five, really soon! Please bear in mind though that February is a really busy month for me, so updates may be a little slow until March. Thanks again. Later.* 


	5. Shego's Dilemma

* Welcome back. Chapter Five is now at the ready.  
  
This story is now dedicated to Michael J Fox, who played Marty McFly in the 'Back to the Future' trilogy. Although one of the most talented actors this world has ever known, he sadly suffers from Parkinson's Disease. But he is still loved very much by his fans, and I want to let the world know by writing this story in his honour.  
  
This chapter is probably the most emotional I have written yet. Once you've read it, please review. It's the best way I can possibly improve this story. *  
  
"Hey, guess what girl!" Drew Lipsky said on Tuesday 12th July 1988. "You made it all the way to the front page!"  
  
I snatched up the morning paper and read.  
  
"Hey, they got this all totally wrong! I never so much as touched anyone in that greasy joint!"  
  
"Well, Shego, they're right about you running off with that baby! I mean, what were you thinking? Are you determined to wreck your own future?"  
  
"Hey, back off, chief! What do you know about the future? I'm the one who's seen it! The one who's been there, done that and got the t-shirt! You. . . you don't even know exactly what'll happen next week, let alone in fifteen years!"  
  
"And sadly, Shego, neither do you!" he retorted. "You've just blown that advantage, I'm afraid to say! I'll tell you - interfering with one line of designer fashion is one thing, perhaps not perfect, but still, in the grand scheme of things. . .this, on the other hand. . ."  
  
"Yeah, I know, but do you actually think I wanted to be mistaken for an extra terrestrial and have the whole town at my throat? I gotta tell you, pal, I'm not exactly flattered!"  
  
He sighed and retired to his tattered sofa, while his scruffy ginger cat, Oliver, lay purring at his side, picking the broken lining with his claws.  
  
"Where's the baby right now?" he finally asked.  
  
"I left her in my room. Don't worry - she's secure. She won't be going nowhere fast!"  
  
"I see. And just how long are you intending to keep her here?"  
  
I sighed. I wasn't really that sure anymore *what* I was going to do with Kim Possible in the end. "I don't know. Just give me more time - I'll figure out what to do."  
  
He sighed. "I just don't understand you, Shego. I mean, if you're representative of the future population, then may God help us in the future! I mean, why the heck would you do such a thoughtless and careless thing? Didn't you even consider what effects your actions would have?"  
  
"On the future?"  
  
"Yes, but on the present as well. I mean, what about the parents of this child?" He leapt up and stabbed the paper with his forefinger. "Read for me, Shego, what does it say about *them*?"  
  
I glanced down at the blurry shot of the young Dr Possibles, their faces red and tearful, with the accompanying caption, "Parents of child abducted by extra terrestrial at large are left devastated." I read it aloud to him.  
  
"RIGHT!" snapped Drew. "This is exactly what I mean. . ." He froze, took the paper, and began squinting down at the picture himself. "Hey. . .wait. . .I know that guy! He's. . . Possible! I went to college with that guy - I don't believe it!" He looked back at me. "And you kidnapped *his* child? But why?"  
  
"Listen, Drew - it's for the best, okay? Take it from me - I'm doing you a serious favour here!"  
  
"A favour? How could kidnapping my old college mate's offspring be doing me a favour? How could disrupting the course of time be in any way beneficial to me? You're the one who's responsible for this half-baked frivolity, Shego - don't start trying to wash it off on me! You're on your own with this one! All I need to do is obtain my future glory by getting you back to your time, if indeed you have a time to get back to! You came here with your unenlightened future mind, imposed on our present and completely obliterated my temporal infinity - I don't know if it's something to do with nuclear fall-out or food grown on the planet Mars or what, but I gotta tell you; something about your day and age has really affected your mental cognition!"  
  
That did it. "You. . .you're just the same as you're gonna be in fifteen years time deep down! I always put myself through the pits just for your lousy benefit, and you never seem to understand! All you ever think about is your stupid self!"  
  
"Hey, don't talk to me like that, Shego! If it weren't for me and my long hard slaving away at that infernal machine, you wouldn't even have a chance of getting back at all! You'd be stuck here! Then what would you have done? Dialled up and phoned the temporal accident and breakdown rescue service? You know, I hear they give you a free desktop alarm clock if you become a lifetime member!"  
  
I growled, hackles raised high. "Yeah, I admit I need your help on this one, Drew! But I gotta tell you - you'd be pretty lost yourself if you didn't have me, chief! I've always stood up for you and stood by you, even when you treated me like dirt! You never seem to get how much I've done for you! You always act like you're so much better, whereas if I just decided to get up and walk out you wouldn't even last for ten minutes on your own! That's the way it'll be - you'll see! I'm sure no temporal disruption would change that. You may think you're a genius, but in truth, you'll always be lousy at doing what you do best! Sometimes I wonder whether or not I should feel glad that you. . ."  
  
"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, FUTURE-GIRL!!!!!" His hands shot up to his ears, as he made for his back door. "What the hell are you trying to do? I don't want to hear about my future! You want to put my future in jeopardy, just like you did to yours? Is that what you want? I don't care what you say, I know that, if I can create something as wonderful as a time machine in a mere vehicle, then I have a great future to look forward to! I won't let you ruin it for me! And you do seem pretty good at ruining things, Shego!"  
  
I glared after him for a few moments, then ran straight back up to my room and slammed the door. Hard. Not a smart move. I suddenly heard the daunting sound of splintering wood. I sighed, growled, and activating the green rays in my gloves, punched a hole the size of a perfect soccer ball in the door. Then I fell back. It was Drew's door. Why the heck should I care if it was broken? I was getting clean out of here on Saturday night.  
  
I hated him for making me yell at him like that. Another thing that hadn't changed in taking a fifteen year step back in time. Whether Dr Drakken or Drew Lipsky, he had a knack of driving me nuts. Kim and her goofy chum I could always handle. You expect to a get raw deal from your enemies. It's different with allies. It hurts when you have to fight with a friend. But it's not like he never drove me to it. Oh, no. He was mean. He was egotistical. He was selfish. A lot of the time he'd act like I was just his fighting minion, existing only to make life easier for him, without any need for gratitude or sensitivity. Well, I've no objection to being an assistant, but I refuse to be a slave!  
  
Doesn't he ever get just how many levels I've had to go to just to help him?  
  
I always end up wondering just why I even bother. I mean, I could walk out any time I want. Drakken couldn't stop me. In fact, it was pretty much true what I'd been telling Drew Lipsky - he wouldn't last for two seconds on his own, let alone ten minutes. Just to prove my point, I *had* walked out on one occasion, chilled for a brief while at a sunny resort, came back and saw what a disastrous time he'd been having in my absence. No surprises there then. Sure, we're no closer to ruling the world now than we were when we first started our partnership, about two hundred schemes later, but it's thanks to me that we haven't taken a step backward! Drakken's weak. If I ever walked out and, this time, *never* came back, Kim Possible and the FBI would eat him up in micro-seconds. Provided he hadn't already eaten himself up in his confusion. I guess I'm just not that mean. Deep down I kinda feel sorry for the guy.  
  
And besides, he's my friend, and I guess that somehow I care enough about him to override his faults. We may not always get on, but we get by.  
  
I just wished that he wouldn't do this to me right now, of all times. Oh sure, in 1988 we were still both here together, allies with warring hearts, to bout with each other and screw everything up. But I knew something he didn't. Something I didn't know quite how I was gonna face up to myself in the end. When I returned to 2003 on Saturday night, he would be. . .dead. And I would be the one left out on my own.  
  
I decided, wisely, not to go out that day. People armed with weapons all over, everyone poised to take a stab at me, CIA helicopters and vans moving as discreetly as they could around the neighbourhood. . .it just wouldn't mix. Whenever I summed up the guts to glance out the window for a brief second, the streets all over seemed pretty drained of their population. I guess the whole of Middleton was on the same wavelength as me. Because of me, mind. That was still bothering me - could it be possible that I'd done anything really devastating to the future I'd known? I still hadn't come close to solving that Club Banana crisis, and now this? I know I don't always give him credit in 2003, but in 1988 my companion was probably onto something there. . . that I had done something incredibly devastating. Just how devastating, I didn't know. I didn't like to think. Not because it was Kim that I'd taken, but because of everything - the whole damn situation just couldn't have been any worse.  
  
I kept thinking things over and glancing at that photo. Already the Club Banana 2000 jacket had faded into little more than a single stylish-looking sleeve on one arm.  
  
And then, looking to one side, there was still Kim, my future arch-nemesis, lying there in a crudely constructed enclosure only inches from me, as sweet and helpless as they can get. Technically, I should have been in one of the greatest positions of my life - if I didn't act quickly and finish the job I knew I'd never get another chance like this again - but, somehow, it just wasn't working out. When I finally approached her, bracing my rays and claws for the kill, something on the inside kicked me hard and wouldn't let me go on. Don't ask me what it was. I ain't exactly proud of it.  
  
Looking up, she just smiled at me, too young to care or understand that I'd come *this* close to frying her puny little body to dust.  
  
"Hey, quit smiling at me, Kimmy! I'm not gonna smile back, if that's what you're hoping! You know, I've been good to keep you alive for as long as I have! If I just went ahead and killed you right now on the spot, you have no idea just how much I'd be liberating myself from in the years to come. See this bruise on my arm?" I began rolling back my sleeve. "Right here - you see it? You wanna know who did that to me?"  
  
She just smiled.  
  
"That's right - you did it! And that's just a mere inkling of the pain you'll be causing both me *and* Drew, who seems so, so worried about you, in the future! Listen, Kimmy, I hate you! And I always will! But. . .I guess I can hardly blame you for this trouble I'm in now. You're just a dumb little kid, after all. And me, I'm. . ." I sighed. "I don't have a clue what I'm going to do now. I just hope that this paranoia dies down before Saturday night. I only have one chance of getting away, and it's got to be safe to go outside. The sooner I can get back, the better. I don't wanna be hunted down here like a dog just because the people round here can't tell a visitor from the future from a visitor from outer space! But. . .that's not the only trouble. . .I don't even know where I'm going back to now, and as for Drakken, well. . .I tried to tell Drew, but he wouldn't listen. He has this real aversion to hearing about his destiny, even if it could save his life. . ."  
  
I snapped out of it real quickly. Oh sure, the problems were genuine, but I was NOT going to sit around and let a baby arch-nemesis become my psychoanalyst. I had more sense than that. Still, there was one thing I had to admit.  
  
"You know something, Kimmy? You and I were never really all that different. Oh sure, we're different enough to be mortal foes, but, still. . . why is it that we both end up allied to some guy who can't tell his leg from his liver?"  
  
-  
  
13th July 1988. 9:15 pm. Wednesday evening. Loraine screaming, as she opened her bedroom door to find me standing there, right beside the window I'd just forced open.  
  
"You! You. . . how did you get in here? What do you want from me now?!" She flinched back against the wall as I moved in closer.  
  
"Easy, Loraine. I guess I just never had a chance to tell you the other day along with everything else - when it comes to tracking and infiltration, I'm the queen! You need me to find out where a particular person resides, no problem! Need me to break into a building without being seen, then I'm your girl yet again!"  
  
Her face red, she reached over and seized a discarded tennis racket, then waved in threateningly at me. "You'd better leave me alone, Shego of Starbucks! You took Dr Possible's kid. . .and now you've come back for me. . .well, I won't let you take me! Come any closer and. . .and. . ."  
  
"Hey, that's great! You think you can keep that stuff up?" Walking over, I snatched the racket in one swift swipe and tossed it to one side. "Listen, Loraine, I come in total peace on this one, okay? I'll assure you that you're beloved little Kimmy Possible is in good hands." By that, I meant Drew Lipsky. I'd decided to leave briefly and scarper out on this mission just when she was starting to look, sound and smell her worst. Maybe I wasn't going to kill her any more, but I wasn't exactly *that* into caring for her. "She'll be returned to her parents in time; I've got it all mapped out. Like I said, it's just part of my overall mission of destiny. Something that involves you too, Loraine. Didn't I tell you it was your destiny to be with George McFly? Well, guess what - nothing's changed! It's still as important as ever that you two come together, and I'm here to be sure that it happens. So, here's what we'll do. This Saturday, I'll use that abducted tot to lure him out into an open space on his own. Then, being the dangerous and destructive extra terrestrial that I am, I'll just sneak up on darling Georgie and, you know, 'attack' him. Then. . .that's where you come in! You're gonna prove yourself a heroine, Loraine!"  
  
"I am? How?"  
  
"Just come over and act the part - you know, 'rescue' him from me. . ."  
  
"Gee, I wouldn't know how. . ."  
  
"What's there to know?" I exclaimed. "It couldn't be simpler! He'll be scared out of his skin, screaming for help, you walk over, and, with a cry of "Hey you, get your damn hands off him!" we'll stage a short bout, in which we just have to act like you're beating the stuffing outta me, I bolt, run back to my companion elsewhere and fly clean away back to my home planet, and you two become a pair matchmade in Heaven, going on to achieve great things! Got that?"  
  
"Hmmm."  
  
"Okay! Be sure to memorise that line!"  
  
"Erm. . . hey you, get your damn. . . aww, Shego, do you really think I should swear?"  
  
"Yeah! Damn it, you should swear, Loraine! And let's get it straight - this Saturday, at 7:45 pm, I want you hanging round near that alley close to Good Burger, okay? The one where I first ambushed you. . .you'll know the signal when you hear it - right when George McFly starts to scream, that's when you walk in and prove your worth! Be sure to get that right, Loraine, the penalty for failure will be high, and I ain't talking about what *I* could do to you!"  
  
"Erm, okay. . .I guess. 7:45pm. . .Saturday night. . ."  
  
"Be sure to be there," I told her, as I slipped back out the way I'd come.  
  
-  
  
Thursday went by, and most of Friday. And I stayed in, while Drew continued his work, and I continued to think. I had half of the plan sussed out. Now I had to work out how exactly to get George McFly lured out to this place without attracting the attention of anyone else. I knew exactly how I was going to use Kim.  
  
Drew and I hadn't been speaking much for the past four days, but, by the time that we knew, if all went to plan, I'd only have 24 hours in 1988 left, animosity between us seemed more or less resolved. I for one couldn't take much more argument with him, as the daunting minute I'd been waiting for all week ticked nearer. I sat out there with him in his garage while he made the last few adjustments to the 626, and assembled together all other necessary appliances, and, in the background, the cheerful sounds of the voice on the radio read out her prophesy for tomorrow.  
  
"Are you sure about this storm, Shego?" asked Drew.  
  
"Hey, since when could a weather-girl predict the *weather*, let alone the future, Drew?"  
  
He nodded, and began stroking the 626 with undisguised affection. "Wow. You know, I still can't believe that all this is happening. It's been such a great experience for me, these past few days - you don't know how much this past week has meant to me! To think, I'm destined to be the one to create the world's first working time machine! That I'm *actually* going to have a chance to travel through time, just like I've always wanted, and see the wonders of the distant future for myself! To think, that I really *am* a genius - a genius with a real future ahead of him! It's going to be really hard waiting for a full fifteen years before I can talk to you about this again, Shego."  
  
Oh man, if only he knew. . .  
  
"I've got to tell you though, I'm actually gonna be kind of sad tomorrow night, when you return to your own time. I think that, deep down, I'm really going to miss you, Shego."  
  
"I. . .I'm gonna miss you too, Drew. . ."  
  
A small tear began to materialise in my left eye, so I wiped it away quickly, before he could see.  
  
"Listen, Drew, about the future. . ."  
  
"No, Shego, no. I don't want to hear any more about my future! I thought I'd made that clear by now!"  
  
"Yeah, but Drew. . ."  
  
"Shego, I'm sure your intentions on this one are good. I'm sure that your intentions all week long have been good. But all the same, anything you say could end up having major repercussions on the entire temporal continuum. Whatever it is you've got to tell me, I'll find out it in the natural course of time."  
  
-  
  
It was 3:03 am on Saturday 16th 1988. My big day. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't yet allow myself to do so. I was up at a crudely-constructed desk in the form of an old discarded cardboard box, with that irritating Kimmy gurgling away nearby, pen and paper at the ready.  
  
"Dear Drew Lipsky/Dr Drakken," I wrote. "On the night that I go back in time, you will be shot by terrorist knights. Please take whatever precautions are necessary to prevent this horrible tragedy from happening. Your friend, Shego."  
  
Sealing it firmly in an envelope, upon which I had penned, "Do not open until 2003", I used my infiltration skills once again to sneak into Drew's room unnoticed and slip my note into the pocket of his coat, hanging from a hook in the ceiling (as you may have already guessed, the impoverished guy had no proper wardrobe). Heat beating fast, I slipped away once more, the ball now in his court.  
  
***  
  
Thanks for reading. Having done so, please review - your opinion really does matter.  
  
Chapter Six will be coming soon, just give me time. To boost your anticipation, I'll now be ending each chapter with a short preview of the next chapter, and, every so often, an event to come slightly later in the story. Here goes:  
  
Chapter Six - With the help of Loraine Baines and baby KP, Shego now has a chance to repair the temporal damage she has done once and for all. However, DNAmy may make things very difficult for her.  
  
And, later to come - The seeds of a romantic relationship between *another* unlikely pair of villains.  
  
Stay tuned! 


	6. Down but not out

Oops, I forgot my disclaimer last time. Well, blah, blah, blah, I don't own any of these guys. . . be flattered than I'm using them in my stories.  
  
Welcome back. I just finished a major exam on Friday and got a big break from my studies this weekend, so I've had a breakthrough with this story - Chapter 6 is now at the ready for you all to read to your heart's content. Thanks to all dedicated readers who've been reading patiently from the start - I hope that things are now starting to pick up a fair bit more. Finally, we're getting to the good bits! Don't forget to review it afterwards, even if you've already left a review for a previous chapter - I'd love to hear from you again. Just be sure keep em coming. So far I don't have nearly enough! I WANT MORE!!! (Coughs) Okay, back to Shego:  
  
***  
  
Drew Lipsky's note wasn't the only one I took the trouble to write that morning. Straining my brain to its greatest potential, I returned to my cardboard box-desk and formulated another light letter, this time addressed to none other than George McFly.  
  
"To puny earthling George McFly," I penned. "Please do not be alarmed. Instead feel honoured that you have been called upon as a representative of your planet for this purpose. The human baby that was abducted earlier is still safely in my possession, and will be returned to your kind at long last IF you are able to follow these strictest of instructions. Make your way to the alley next to Good Burger at precisely 7:45 pm tonight, unarmed and alone. In fact, if you want this helpless little baby and your entire planet to remain safe at all, you won't inform another soul of this letter or of your mission tonight. Any disregard toward these rules will be seen as a great lack of respect and trust, with some really nasty consequences. If you care at all, you'll do exactly what has been asked of you. Thanks, George, you have been warned."  
  
Having tracked George McFly's place of residence at the same time I'd handled that of Loraine Baines, I was easily able to slip over unseen in the early hours of the morning and leave the note prominently at his bedside, before returning to Drew's much more impoverished living conditions. It took another two or three hours before he was up and finishing off the final touches to the 626. I just hoped that he wouldn't disregard my note when he finally found it.  
  
"Now all we have to do is get this thing and all the necessary appliances down to the town centre this evening, in enough time to get it all connected up for your journey," he proclaimed. "Remember, we only have until 10:04 pm to get this done - miss that chance, and you've lost it for good! Did you manage to sort out all your temporal problems out in the meantime?"  
  
"Not as such, but I've got it all figured for tonight. Well, most of it. I still don't think I'm gonna be able to live down this whole alien thing for tonight. I'm just gonna have to leave that one up to the course of time and the CIA to sort out for me. But I can get that baby back to where she came from, still together in one piece. And I can save Club Banana before I head back tonight. That I'll have no trouble with. Provided that drip Loraine gets her role right."  
  
"That's good news," replied Drew. "Because so far things clearly aren't solving themselves. I mean, just examine that jacket you're wearing right now."  
  
I looked at it. And I glanced at the photo. The Club Banna 2000 jacket had completely disappeared, and now, much to my horror, the jacket I was currently wearing was starting to fade too. Literally. The top of one of the sleeves had almost vanished from existence. Things weren't looking too good the way they were going.  
  
"One more thing," I asked. "Do you think it's safe for us to be going out and doing this tonight? I mean, obviously we have to, but the people around this town still seem pretty paranoid. We can't afford to draw attention to this whole deal."  
  
"Of course not," he replied. "But we'll be perfectly safe, provided we keep the 626 covered up before the time actually comes. By the time it comes, you forget, this whole town is set to be gripped by a formidable storm - and storms have a habit, remember, of keeping people indoors! It couldn't be more perfect!"  
  
-  
  
"Okay, Kimmy, you know what you're job is this time!" I informed my gurgling little foe as I snuck her discreetly behind the back of the alley. "Just keep yourself shut up and don't burst out crying at any point, no matter what happens. If all goes to plan, you'll get to go back to your real family and I'll get to go back to my real day and age. We'll meet up again in the future, and sure you'll give me grievances, but just be warned - it hasn't yet been decided which of us will ultimately live happily ever after in the end! I'm sure I'll beat you one day in the future, even if it won't be for at least another fifteen years. For now, though - just keep on smiling!"  
  
And that's just what she did as I placed her in the same cardboard box I'd been using as a desk back in Drew's house, and concealed her behind the trash can at the back of the alley. Then, I glanced down at my watch. 7:40 pm. Right, let's do this thing. George McFly was due any minute. And so too was Loraine. If we could get this over with in less than ten minutes, I could get back to Drew Lipsky by 8 o'clock, in plenty of time to prepare for my temporal odyssey.  
  
I slipped back over the fence at the back and waited. Quietly enough to hear my watch in action, as the second hand jolted hastily around its constant loop. Tick, tick, tick. 7:43 pm. I peered over the fence, but still no sign of him. Tick, tick, tick. 43 became 44 before I knew it. Still no sign. I glanced down. The spindly little hands were still at work, looming closer and closer to the distinguished time. I looked up, I glanced down, but it got no result. By now that audible ticking might just as well have been the sound of my own rapid heartbeat.  
  
Up, down - still no sign. Up down, up down, up down. . .then something seized me from behind and shoved a screwed up ball of rags into my mouth.  
  
I almost choked. For a few micro-seconds I felt like my tongue was on fire and tasting searing hot acid. I spun round, too late, to find myself staring face to face, once again, with the 1988 DNAmy. Or, just plain Amy. Plain 1988 Amy with her hands gripped firmly round my neck and a grin of pure malice on her face.  
  
"Hey, ET, you wanna know just how many bucks worth of damage you cost me on the tyres of my car?" she growled, suddenly losing that grin.  
  
I wanted to act fast. I wanted to reach out and claw her, to activate the rays in my gloves and give her a taste of green barbecue. But I couldn't. It's hard to explain. It's not like earlier, with young Kimmy, when a feeling inside stopped me fast in my tracks. This time, I wanted to fight back but my body physically couldn't. My own body was defying me. Instead of displaying the lightning fast reflexes that I'd prided myself on so much over time, it was just shrinking up. My limbs were becoming stiff and heavy, my spine going rigid. Before I knew it, I was barely able to stand up. In fact I wasn't able to stand. My legs keeled over and I fell, smacking myself back against the side of the fence. I wanted to cry out, but the muscles in my mouth and voice had suddenly all stiffened up too, enabling me at first only to emit pitiful little groans, but growing stiffer and stiffer all the while, until, barely a few moments later, I was no longer able to make any noise at all.  
  
My body was left completely immobile, like I no longer had any control over it at all. But my mind never faded. It was still there. And I was left conscious of it all. Above all, that foul taste still lingered in my mouth.  
  
Amy grinned and tossed the ball of rags playfully into the air, fielding it again like a light game of catch. "It's amazing the sort of stuff you have access to when you're a science student, of any kind. I found the chemicals you've just sampled lying around on the shelves of the college science lab, would you believe it? Pretty impressive results, wouldn't you agree? Doesn't quite knock you out, but it'll stun your body for a good two hours, leaving you conscious and fully aware of everything that goes on around you, but at the same time completely immobile! Dazzling stuff, if you ask me!"  
  
No, I thought, my heart pounding. Please no. I had to move. I *had* to fight back, for the sake of everything. But I still couldn't move. I was completely powerless. I couldn't even turn to see my watch and check the time. I had no idea if George McFly was standing there, waiting for me. Or if he'd simply root around and find Kim, pick her up and head off before Loraine Baines could even show up and act the hero. Worse still, if this thing didn't wear off in time, then. . .I'd never get back. I'd never see 2003 again. I couldn't even scream for help.  
  
"Oh yeah, claw-girl, I suppose you're wondering how exactly I knew you'd be here at this time," Amy laughed, prodding me roughly with her foot. "Well, that smooth but nonetheless very careless business student George McFly left his note lying around on a table at Good Burger very briefly this morning. Oh sure, he returned in a haste and pocketed it as soon as he could, but not before I'd had a chance to look at it and see for myself what was happening. 7:45 pm. And I just knew you'd be hiding round the back of the alley, ET, the same way you escaped last time. . .  
  
I gotta tell you though, ET, I'm really impressed with the slick way you were able to con all the mugs in this town into thinking you were from another planet! Don't think I don't see through you. You're no ET, just because you're capable of shooting green rays from your gloves! The people in this town, no offence to them or anything, but they're all idiots with dull lives! For all I know, those are just some pretty impressive gloves you've got there! I'll have to check them out myself later! For now, though, I have other business to attend to. It was you, was it not, my dear claw-girl, who made the suggestion to me that I should aim for world domination?"  
  
I managed to spit a minute speck of saliva in her direction, but it fell way short of her foot.  
  
She laughed. "Yes, indeed it was, on our very first meeting back on Sunday morning! Well, since then, as I also had you know, before you went ahead and DAMAGED THE WHEELS ON MY CAR, I've been thinking long and hard about what you said, and I've decided that, the way I was going until I met you, indeed my targets would have been too low. Settling merely for obsessive genetic slicing - it wouldn't be enough. I want more! And I'm gonna get more! I'm gonna be sure that I get it! And I have you to thank for it, claw-girl! As a reward, you now get to hear the simply *beautiful* sounds of the first step in my masterplan for total world domination reach completion! After which of course, I turn you over to the police for kidnapping that little kid and collect the reward money - I'm gonna need it to finance my overall master-scheme!"  
  
My eyes widened in horror. Maybe I had underestimated DNAmy. This was yet another thing which I'd interfered on, without realising it, and one which I hadn't expected to get as out of hand as this. No, it wasn't fair, it wasn't right - I had to get back to the future, above all things! I couldn't be busted now, in this time zone. And, I had this terrible little feeling inside over just what DNAmy wanted to do to complete that first step in her scheme. . .this nasty little notion that it had something to do with George McFly.  
  
"I've also gotta thank you for luring McFly to this secluded alley in the first place. You couldn't have found me a more perfect hostage! McFly is the top business student in the entire college, and I just know he has all the inside information I need to aid me in gaining control over this delightful little planet!" She took out a small bottle from a pocket, and added a small drizzle of liquid to the ball of rags. "There, that's topped it off! I only need apply the same to George McFly over there, then. . . he's mine!"  
  
I *had* underestimated her. For sure. Too bad it was too late.  
  
"Well, just sit back and enjoy the sounds!" Amy laughed as she scrambled, with some difficulty, over the wooden fence and leapt down onto the trashcan below, leaving me lying there, down but not out.  
  
I heard it all. A slight thud as she bounded all the way down to the ground, then the soft meek voice of George McFly calling out into the shadows ahead. I could tell from his voice that he was nervous, and he had good reason to be too. He couldn't have known what now awaited him, something much worse than a girl from the future masquerading as a dangerous visitor from out of space, who only intended to stage a fight with him for the sake of some line of designer fashion. . .boy, was he in for a shock.  
  
"Hey, good of you to have come, George McFly!"  
  
"AMY! It's you! I. . .I. . ."  
  
"Oh, were you expecting someone else?"  
  
"Well, yeah. . .I kinda am. . .listen, Amy, you really should get out of here. Something's gonna happen tonight around here, and I've got to be here at this exact time to do something really, really urgent, and for your own sake and for the sake of others, I'd advise you to get out now!"  
  
"Is that a threat, McFly?"  
  
"No, but I can't talk about it - just get out of here before it's too late!"  
  
"Too bad you don't have time to heed your own warning, McFly!"  
  
That was it. The cry of pure malice. I've been a villain for long enough myself to recognise that cry --the exact prosody of when one stops talking and just dives in for the kill. I heard sounds of a struggle, George McFly wailing; wailing that soon turned into petrified screams as the struggle intensified. Unlike me, McFly had been attacked from the front, as opposed to a sneak attack, so he had better grounds on which to struggle. But DNAmy was clearly a tough fighter, much tougher than I'd thought she could be. She was taking on a well-grown young man, and, from the sounds of it, she was winning! I heard his piercingly masculine screams. I wanted to get up, get over and stand his ground, but I was still entirely paralysed. All I could do was lie there and wince with every discouraging sound that I heard. I thought, no, don't scream! You can't afford to open your mouth! Not now - not when she could shove that ball of rags into your mouth, same as she did not me. But he didn't. He continued to wail out, screaming for help. And then -  
  
"Hey you, get your damn hands off. . .AMY??!!!"  
  
Loraine Baines. Right on cue. My eyelids sank downwards, along with my heart.  
  
"Beat it, Baines! Can't you see I'm busy here?"  
  
I heard George once again. "LORAINE!" he gasped, frantically. "HELP ME! HELP ME, LORAINE!"  
  
Why even waste your breath, I groaned inside my head. This is Loraine Baines you're appealing to. I heard the sounds of the struggle continue. I heard Loraine stammering alongside it, no doubt just coming to grips with the fact that something in our arrangement had gone spectacularly wrong, and that now would be good time to leg it.  
  
"Didn't you hear me, Baines?" Amy growled. "I said beat it!"  
  
And then something incredible happened.  
  
"No, Amy! You leave him alone!"  
  
Aside from George's desperate gasping, the whole world suddenly seemed to stand completely still. There was a brief moment of silence. Too brief, if you ask me.  
  
"Alright, Baines, I warned you!" I heard Amy snarl. I heard the unmistakable sound of a worn-out George being kicked viciously in the groin and then to one side, left mildly stunned and helpless (though probably not as bad as I currently had it). Then, the sounds of her turning her attention to a victim anew - I heard more struggle, of a much less intense nature, before Loraine suddenly crying and wailing, emitting the sounds of tremendous pain.  
  
"Amy, no!" George gasped, loud but weakly. "You're gonna break her arm!"  
  
"You think I don't know that?" Amy retorted, half-laughing. "I'm just gonna bend her arm, like so, and snap it right in two! That'll teach her to mess with the wrong sort of girl!"  
  
I felt physically sick by this stage, and it wasn't because of that foul taste still lingering on my tongue. I couldn't help but feel very protective of Loraine, and to have no choice but to lie back and hear her have the stuffing knocked out of her was just agonising. I winced. I could no longer turn and check it visually, but all around me I could feel my Club Banana jacket fading. Fading all the more, very gradually from existence. . .  
  
Loraine carried on wailing, Amy carried on laughing. I heard George make one more protest, then the sounds of another heavy thud and a male cry as Amy no doubt took the chance to knock back by slugging him in the face. I heard her now, laughing much harder than before, merging into one of those evil, megalomanic laughs that we supervillains are only too renowned for. It rang hard into the night, piercing deep into my eardrums and biting down hard. I thought, here we go, this is it - I could feel my arm getting colder and colder and. . .  
  
"HEY! You can't just slug George McFly like that!" POW! I heard another pounding blow of fist against raw skin, and Amy suddenly fell silent, hitting the ground with another thud.  
  
I could scarcely believe what I was hearing. A brief silence, followed by Loraine's heavy gasping. Not gasps of pain and agony, as George had been producing, but gasps of pure astonishment, as though she too couldn't believe her own actions, finally merging into one short sharp cheer of victory.  
  
"YES!!!" There was a pause. "Erm. . . are you alright, George?"  
  
"Yeah. . . I guess so, Loraine. . .thanks."  
  
"No problem. Hey, what the heck was happening just now?"  
  
"I don't know, Loraine. . .it's kinda weird. . .I was called out to do something tonight and. . .I don't know. . .she just came out of nowhere and. . .tried to shove something into my mouth! It's hard to explain. . ."  
  
"Well, don't feel you have to then. Erm. . .may I help you to your feet?"  
  
"Yeah, sure. . .just go easy on me, okay? It's still. . .pretty painful. . .in areas."  
  
My heart must have skipped two beats at once. My arm was suddenly feeling warmer and warmer. I still had no way of seeing for myself, but somehow I got the feeling that Club Banana had just been spared.  
  
Then, the easing silence was suddenly interrupted by the baby Kim Possible, still concealed there behind the trash can at the back, who had managed to remain silent throughout one seriously intense student scuffle, and now suddenly decided to let herself be heard.  
  
"Hey, that cry at the back. . ." said Loraine. "You don't think it's. . ."  
  
I heard her come scuttling over in my direction, still unable to see me by way of the wooden fence in between. But, there was nothing to stop her from finding KP.  
  
"Dr Possible's kid! It is, George, it is! She's back here, safe and sound!"  
  
He gasped, managing to drag himself over, with some difficulty, or so it sounded. "It's her? Wow, that's amazing. . .you know, I was called over here to. . .well, it's hard to explain, but I guess that that. . .creature, if indeed it was from them, was as good as their word. . ."  
  
Then, more voices. "Hey, is everything alright round here?"  
  
"Yeah," replied Loraine. "Everything's just great."  
  
"We heard noises," said one man. "It sounded like some pretty rough fighting was going on. . ."  
  
"Well, it's kinda hard to explain," said George. "Stuff did happen, but, at the end of it all. . ."  
  
"We found Dr Possible's kid!" cheered Loraine. "Right over here, at the back of this alley!"  
  
"Really?" someone cried. "The one who was abducted by that. . .visitor?"  
  
"Was that. . . visitor around? Did you see it, did you see it?"  
  
"Nah, that thing's nowhere to be seen," sniffed George. "But, we found the missing kid. . .and that's what's important."  
  
"Hey, are either of the Possibles around?" asked Loraine.  
  
"No, but I know where I saw em last. . ." piped up the unmistakable voice of the future Pop Pop Porter. "I'll go get the . .hey, what's been going on round here? Why is that girl lying unconscious in the alley?"  
  
"It's a long story. . ." replied Loraine. "Just get the Possibles. . .and we can return them their kid."  
  
I'll never forget the pure joy their reaction was flowing with when they finally arrived. Everyone was still flocking round George and Loraine and demanding more answers in the meantime, but the second that (Mrs) Dr Possible came charging through, their pressing all fell to a reverent halt.  
  
"KIMBERLY! Is it really you? Oh, Kimberly, I thought I'd never see you again. . .you were gone for so long. . .and. . ." Her relieved outburst was shortly followed by a break down into tears.  
  
"Your mother and I were very worried about you, Kimberly," I heard her husband say, struggling not to lapse into an outburst himself. "We thought we'd lost you for good. . .we couldn't function while you were gone. . .we missed you so much. . .but now. . .you're here. You're here with us again, and we're never gonna let you go. We're never gonna put you through any risks again. Our little girl. . .Kimberly Ann Possible!"  
  
Listening to it all, it didn't exactly ease my nausea, but I have to admit that I felt kinda touched. Not that it would change my attitude to Kim Possible when I got back to 2003. . .if indeed I could get back at all by this rate. As a baby, she was much too helpless and blameless to begrudge. As a teen on the other hand, who always interfered with our plans. . .well, things were gonna be pretty different.  
  
"Thanks, McFly," said Mr Dr Possible. "We really owe you one."  
  
"Hey, it wasn't down to me in the end," he replied, being Mr Modest. "It was Loraine. She's the real hero. She found your kid and. . .she saved me too. . .it's kinda weird how it all happened, but I gotta say - Loraine Baines is not the girl I always thought she was - she's a real star!"  
  
Loraine didn't say much, but the entire crowd suddenly started flocking round her, as the Possibles poured out their gratitude again and again. Eventually, the voices began to fade, as I assumed, correctly, that the crowd was taking its celebration elsewhere. People were leaving, including George and Loraine - their voices and movements drawing fainter and fainter, until only two voices, belonging to a pair of young adults probably not much older than the Possibles, remained.  
  
"Wow, who was that girl?" asked one, the female of the pair.  
  
"Loraine Baines, I think," replied her male companion. "She's an art student at the local college - she tends to hang around the tables at Good Burger every morning, but I never knew that much about her until now. Wow, I always knew that art classes did wonders for a child's personal growth. I mean, look what it did to her. Man, we've gotta start saving to send our kid to an art tuition class from now on. . .if we want him to grow up to be as cool as her!"  
  
"Aw, sweetie, you know we can't do that. We were already saving up to send him to summer camp when he's older, remember? Surely you don't want him to miss out on all the wonders that time spent in summer camp can do for a child's personal growth too?"  
  
"Nah, forget summer camp. So he never gets to go. . .big deal. Art tuition for years would be a heck of a lot more beneficial than one measly summer spent at camp. We've got ourselves a new target from now on, dear - art tuition it is!"  
  
And at that they too departed and I was left there, still immobilised and unable to get up and go. On the one hand, I was relieved. My work with Loraine Baines and the baby Kim Possible was finally done, or at least I could assume it was. Club Banana was saved, Kim had been reunited with her folks without bringing me down, and I at last had a future to go to. All well and good, but it was a blinking shame that I might never get back at all!  
  
My heart was continuing to beat, running faster and faster all the while. My breathing too was quick but heavy - I had no idea how fast time was ticking by, leaving me still completely futile and with that awful taste on my tongue, but I just hoped that it wouldn't run out. I had to get back - this was my only chance. If I missed this chance, then there was no going back. . .and I couldn't bear the thought of being stuck here in Middleton of 1988! I thought of Drew. He must have been starting to panic by now, that I hadn't turned up. I thought of all the wiring and applications that he had to hang around the town centre in order to make my journey possible, and only hoped that he'd be able to handle that all by himself. I remembered what Amy had said - that this stuff would take effect for a good two hours. Two hours I had, but it was a really close call.  
  
During my long and agonising wait, I thought I could hear the scuttling sounds of her coming to and crawling, dejected from the alley. I'm sure glad she didn't decide to come back to me and vent her anger. I just hoped that whatever it had been that had made her such a marshmallow in the future would have a really incredible effect when it finally came.  
  
Time continued to pass, so slowly that it was practically taunting me, eager to get even for the temporal damage that I had done.  
  
And then, I heard the crack of thunder in the sky, and felt the cool, stinging drizzle of rain fall down upon my helpless body. The storm - it was hear! Whatever the time was, I couldn't have much of it left. Please, I thought, please just let me move again. It was a plea. A plea to my own body. But nothing was happening, nothing. . .and then I suddenly found myself able to groan.  
  
The effects were wearing off.  
  
It took a while before it made any major difference. My limbs, joints and muscles were growing less and less stiff all the while, until I could jolt and shift them, quite clumsily at first, but remained quite rigid themselves. Eventually, I found myself able to sit up. I found my voice returning - soon I could move the muscles in my mouth and voice box and form entire words. To stand up, though, I had to dig my nails into the fence and actually pull myself up. Even then I had to lean against it for balance.  
  
When my body was finally articulate enough, I took the chance to examine my jacket. All there, in one entire piece. Fishing furiously into my pocket, I pulled out the photo and stared. And there, quite clearly was the Club Banana 2000 jacket once again. I breathed a sigh of relief. Tonight's bout with the future DNAmy had brought George and Loraine together at long last, and Club Banana had been reborn into time. All's well that ends well, I guess.  
  
Then I checked my watch. 9:47 pm. I swallowed hard, still finding it difficult to actually scream. 9 -blinking 47!!!! I only had 17 minutes left to get back to 2003!  
  
In my haste, I tried to bound away and almost keeled over again. My body still wasn't ready for bounding. So I had to crawl at first. I crawled as rapidly as I could, all the way behind the back of Good Burger and out toward the town centre, struggling hard just to get my legs back in lucid action. I kicked and kicked with them as best as I could, just trying to knock the strength back into them. Finally, I found I could move tem much more freely, so much so that I could even stand up and begin walking the rest of my route. And, five seconds later, run. I ran down all the way to the town centre as quickly as I could, rain beating down hard against my already drenched body, my eyes poised, ready to check the clock the second I arrived. When I finally got there, the time was already 9:55 pm. . .  
  
***  
  
Okay, end of Chapter 6. Thanks for reading. I'd appreciate a review (what do I have to do to get more of em?). Tell me what you think of this chapter and the story so far, cos I really want to know!  
  
Chapter 7 will becoming soon, and I really look forward to writing this one. Here's a short preview:  
  
In Chapter 7, Shego's only chance of getting back to 2003 has finally arrived! Can she pull it off successfully? And, even more crucially, will she have been able to save Dr Drakken from being killed by the Knights of Rodeghan? All will be revealed.  
  
  
  
Just another note - if you didn't guess this, the sequence of this chapter in which DNAmy disables Shego by stuffing some sort of paralysing chemical into her mouth was inspired by a scene in 'What Lies Beneath', a movie from the same director as 'Back to the Future', Robert Zemeckis. Only I couldn't remember the name of the chemical! Out of interest, if you know, please include it in your review. Thanks.  
  
  
  
See you soon with Chapter 7! 


	7. Against the Clock

Disclaimer - Sigh, well you know the drill. . .check my other chapters - I don't own any of these characters, but I'm not gonna let that stop me from writing about them!  
  
Greetings to you all, my dear faithful readers. Thanks for all the reviews so far, particularly for Chapter 6 - I'm starting to feel like I have fans round here! As promised, here is Chapter 7, a cool chapter for me to write, because it's based on one of my favourite scenes in the first BTTF film. Here goes:  
  
***  
  
"You!" Drew Lipsky yelped at me as I came bolting in his direction. "You have no concept of time!"  
  
"Hey, cut me some slack here, Drew! I had to overcome the side-effects of acute chemical poisoning before I could even get down here!"  
  
"Yeah, well you really don't have that much time left. Fortunately for you I was able to handle all the applications by myself. . . all the necessary wiring is in now place and the 626 is ready to go. Did you manage to fix everything up with those kids?"  
  
"Oh yeah, Drew, you should've been there!" I replied. "It was incredible! Loraine actually stood up to DNAmy - I never knew she had it in her!"  
  
"And the baby?"  
  
"Now back with her parents. . ." But don't say I didn't warn you, I added under my breath.  
  
"Good, then let's get this thing going!" he ordered, seizing hold of a mass of canvas and pulling it away fast to unveil the hidden 626, now with a metallic pole and connecting hook protruding from the rear. "That pole and hook are to act as your lightning rod - make sure they stay inserted into the flux capacitor at all times!  
  
Now let's set your destination time." He pulled open the door and flicked on the time circuits. The trio of LCD screens flashed as before. "Okay, *this* is the exact time that you left," he said, pointing to the 'Time Departed' screen. "So we'll set this thing to take you back to the very same point in time - 12:51am on Saturday 7th June 2003! It'll be like you never left!"  
  
He keyed the essential numbers into the relevant screen and then leapt back out into the middle of the road, now relocating his ever-pointing forefinger to the direction of the distant street ahead.  
  
"I painted a white line on the street way over there. I think it managed to dry before it started raining. . .that's where you start this thing from! I've calculated the precise distance, taking into account the acceleration speed and wind resistance retroactive to when the bolt of lightning strikes." He fished an alarm clock out of his pocket, made a few adjustments to it and then placed in the vehicle's interior. "When this alarm goes off, that's exactly the point at which you've gotta start the car and go. Carry on driving in a straight line, increasing your speed all the while. If you field your side of the operation correctly, you should reach 90 and pass under the wire just at the instant that the lightning goes through it. . ." He paused. "Well, I guess that's everything."  
  
I nodded. "Yeah. Thanks. . ."  
  
"No, thank you, Shego!" he replied, streaming optimism from every pore.  
  
I wished I could've felt the same way. But I was still having doubts. Not about the bolt of lightning and all that stuff. . .that was nerve-racking enough, but I knew I could handle it. I was having doubts about him. Still being there when I got back. I mean, even with my written warning, I felt so helpless in leaving everything up to him. There was still no way I could guarantee that. . .this wouldn't be the last time I'd ever see him again. I'd had to watch him be gunned down in 2003, and I could still remember it all so vividly . . . maybe I'd have to face up to the fact that, no matter how high or how low, there was still a chance that this would be my last chance to say goodbye. For good.  
  
"Goodbye Drew," I stammered. Much to my surprise I found myself reaching out and throwing my arms around him, holding him close and digging my nails in tight.  
  
"Shego. . .you're hurting me!" he protested. "In about fifteen years, maybe?"  
  
"I hope so. . ."  
  
"Don't worry! As long as you hit that wire with the connecting hook at precisely ninety miles per hour the instant the lightning strikes the tower . . . everything will be fine!"  
  
Sighing, I scrambled into the vehicle, as the rain continued to pour down thick and fast and the wind beat relentlessly against us. I looked up at Drew, standing there, smiling, as he straightened up his coat, fishing casually into his pocket, then, frowning, producing an envelope that looked all too familiar. . .  
  
I rolled my eyes shut. Not now. Not now of all times. . .  
  
"Shego. . .what's this?"  
  
I tried to play it cool. "Well, like it says, you're gonna have to wait until the year 2003 to find out."  
  
"It's about the future isn't it? It's information about the future! How many times do I have to tell you, girl, I don't want to hear anything about it!" He suddenly turned and headed straight for the nearest trash can.  
  
"No, Drew!" I leapt back out the car and bolted after him. "You have to read it!"  
  
"NO! WHY CAN'T YOU UNDERSTAND, FUTURE-GIRL? THE CONSEQUENCES COULD BE DISASTEROUS!"  
  
"WELL, THAT'S A RISK YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO TAKE!" I screamed back at him. "YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT!"  
  
"NO! I REFUSE TO ACCEPT THE RESPONSIBILITY!" he cried, screwing the envelope up in the palm of his hand then hurling it down on the ground, where he proceeded to stamp on it several times.  
  
"IN THAT CASE YOU LEAVE ME NO CHOICE BUT TO TELL YOU STRAIGHT OUT!"" I cried, barely able to hear myself above the rain and thunder. "ON THE NIGHT THAT I GO BACK IN TIME, YOU. . ."  
  
My desperate outcry was suddenly interrupted by a falling tree, unable to take the force of the heavy winds any more, and suddenly deciding to uproot and keel over, crashing down upon the industrial wiring and taking half the circuit down with it. From the clock tower, the other half of the broken connection hung, limply, by the hour hand.  
  
By this stage we were both panicking.  
  
Drew raced over and surveyed the damage. "The circuit's been disconnected. . .we can still reconnect it in time it we act fast!" He bounded over to his spare appliances and seized a loose cord of rope. "Shego, you get the cable, and I'll run up there and throw down this rope!"  
  
I watched him bolt into the clock tower, about half a minute later appearing up out there by the clock itself, looking somewhat out of breath, gazing down at me as I worked hard to untangle the spindly wiring from the fallen tree. As promised, he threw down one end of the rope, and as soon as I'd managed to free the infernal cable I set to work on wrapping the rope firmly around it, beavering away quicker than my fingers could bear. I didn't have time to think. I didn't have time to do anything other than stay focussed on my mission. But there was one thing I couldn't forget. One thing I still had to do, no matter what. . .  
  
Phase One complete, and the rope firmly holding the loose cable, Drew began to haul it back up to where he was standing, forcing me to watch helplessly from below, still drenched in endless rain and trembling with constant hyperactive heartbeat. I was running out of time fast. In more ways than one.  
  
"DREW!!!" I screamed up to him. "I HAVE TO TELL YOU ABOUT THE FUTURE!"  
  
I could no longer hear him above the sounds of the storm, and, from the way he responded, I doubt very much that he could hear me either.  
  
"I HAVE TO TELL YOU ABOUT THE FUTURE!" I shrieked, even more loudly. "YOU GOTTA LISTEN TO ME! ON THE NIGHT I GO BACK IN TIME, YOU. . ."  
  
And then it happened. The clock struck ten o'clock. The deafening chime ran out deep into the night, piercing my ear drums with such cruelty that I dread to think what it must have been like for Drew, standing right next to it all. I looked up and saw him yelp, covering his ears and barely stopping himself from losing balance and tumbling off. He held on tight to the rope, pulling the wiring loose, then reaching over to seize the end of the cord that still hung around the other side of the clock. As he did, though, he gazed down at me.  
  
"WHY ARE YOU STILL STANDING THERE? YOU GOTTA GO!"  
  
"NO!" I shrieked back. "I'M NOT GOING ANYWHERE UNTIL I. . ."  
  
"GO! GO NOW! LOOK AT THE TIME - YOU'VE GOT LESS THAN FOUR MINUTES LEFT!"  
  
I was still reluctant, but I had no choice. Taking one last glance at Drew, I turned and ran, diving back into the 626 and driving in the direction he'd shown me, scanning the street desperately for that streak of clear white he'd claimed to have painted on the road. Finally, I found it, leaping back out into the open to inspect and ensure that it was the right one. The paint was beginning to drip and run a little, but there was no doubt as to where the genuine starting point of the white line lay. With a deep breath, I leapt back into the car and braced myself for the ride.  
  
Only I couldn't. Not fully.  
  
"Damn it, Drew! Why did you have to screw up my note like that? Don't you realise what you're doing to yourself?" I sighed, my stomach swelling with uneasiness. "Oh man, if only I had more time. . ." Then it hit me. "Hey, wait a minute - I'm in a time machine here - I have all the time in the world! I can just set this thing to take me back early and warn him! Right, ten minutes ought to do it!" With a few adjustments, I managed to reset my destination time to 12:41 am. "Okay - time circuits - on. Flux capacitor - fluxing. Engine running -alright!"  
  
And then the engine just went dead. The revved up car fell to silence.  
  
"No! Not again! Come on, I don't need this!"  
  
I tried desperately to get it to start again. I slammed my foot down fast on the gas pedal, I turned the engine key with as much force as I could muster, I smacked my hands down hard against the vehicle interior - nothing worked. Nothing. To make things worse, in my moment of despair, Drew's alarm clock suddenly sprang to life with a grating alert that bit deep.  
  
Oh cruel fate, how you mock me!  
  
It went on mocking me, and I was helpless to it. Now I was really starting to panic. I remembered what Drew had told me - I had to get down there at the precise moment for this whole thing to even work. Otherwise, I'd be stuck here for good. I wouldn't get a second chance. This was my only chance. And it was failing me. I could have cried. Instead I banged my head down against the steering wheel in a heat of rage. And, at that, life suddenly returned to the car. The engine revved up, and we were back in business. All had cost me was one sore headache.  
  
I couldn't waste any more time. Already that damned alarm clock had been ringing for too long. I slammed my foot down hard on the pedal, and the 626 shot down the street, my heartbeat going hyper all the while. Onwards I sped, the mileage increasing with every split second, the town centre looming nearer and nearer all the while. By the time I'd reached it, the entire world around me was little more than a sickly blur. For one harsh split second I considered the cruel possibility that Drew's attempts to reconnect the cables may have been unsuccessful, but, much to my relief, as I shot past the clock, gearing up to 90, I thought I caught sight of him standing there on the ground once more, waiting. The next thing I saw was the incredible flash of through the sky, and, as I neared the wiring, the night was pierced by the callous crackle of thunder, and the whole world went white.  
  
And suddenly I heard more voices, screaming all around me. Screams of pure fear, as people before me barely dived out of my way in the nick of time, and I went crashing with the 626 directly into the side of an old boarded- up cinema. The decaying walls caused the car itself little damage, but began to crumble themselves and, reversing, I could hear more screams and shouts from behind, merging from terror into pure anger.  
  
"WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING, YOU FREAKING DRUNK DRIVER! YOU ALMOST HAD US KILLED!"  
  
Looking back there were many people gathered there, all massed together in on great big rally. Many were sporting signs and banners between them; squinting my eyes to read one of the banners, I could make out the words, inked in bold black lettering, "Save Our Centre Clock!"  
  
This definitely wasn't 1988. But 2003? When I put my mind to it, I could recall something about a protest rally being held on the night I'd left. Something about saving the stopped Middleton town centre clock, when it had been struck by lightning fifteen years ago. . .and I had been there. Yeah, it was all starting to come back to me now. This was it - the night I'd left on - 12:41am Saturday 7th June 2003! I'd made it! I'd made it back to the year 2003!  
  
"Angry mobs of protestors!" I cried. "Yeah, this it alright! The world of 2003! It's so great! Everything looks great!" Thrilled as I was, I couldn't allow myself to forget that my mission was still incomplete. "Alright Drew, you didn't let me down, and I sure as hell won't let you down either!"  
  
Swerving to avoid the fist-shaking masses, I swung back down a less crowded side street, revving up in the direction of the parking lot from which I'd left. . .when the reliable device fell dead yet again. The supply of power, both lightning surge and gasoline, had run completely dry.  
  
"NO!" I cried. "Not again! Not now, please!"  
  
And then, down the same street, I saw an all-too familiar vehicle spurt past me. Exactly the same one which had carried the Knights of Rodeghan. And they were heading in the same direction.  
  
I slammed the steering wheel again, this time with my hand, but nothing worked. There was nothing else for it. I leapt out of the 626 and ran, bolting down the street and through the town, already exhausted out of my mind, just hoping that my infamous blistering speed would prove to be faster than that of two terrorist knights at the wheel of an RV. I scrambled over fences and park benches, hoping to catch up with their RV and overtake, put still I saw no sign of them.  
  
Finally, I arrived at the raised grass verge above the parking lot, staggering and out of breath, just in time to see the Knights gun down Drakken yet again.  
  
From a different angle of course.  
  
Mind swamped with horror, I opened my mouth to scream, but someone beat me to it. That someone was of course myself - gazing down, I got the full view of myself as I had been a whole week ago (at least to me), standing there and shaking with shock, but still ready to bolt, clinging tight to my Club Banana jacket. I watched myself dodge the onslaught of bullets as they came on at me, and dive behind the cover of the 626 as it had been on that night.  
  
"Drive!" the knight with the gun ordered his companion. "Don't let that girl get away!"  
  
I saw that horrifying moment in which I ran out right in front of their vehicle's path, then freeze, and the frustrated knight suddenly crying out in fury.  
  
"Rats! Out of ammunition! Hey, get your hands off the wheel and grab the spare!"  
  
And that was the point at which the unwitting me seized her one chance, leapt into the 626 and drove. And boy, did she drive.  
  
At this point, myself as I was, standing there watching, suddenly felt something at my feet. I glanced down. Commodore Puddles. He stood there, shaking and panting through his muzzle, having just scrambled up the verge, looking up at me and whining, somewhat desperate and confused. I'd never seen the savage little creature so terrified in his entire life. I gazed down at the point where Drakken's body lay. I looked up, and saw myself tearing around in lot in the 626, the Knights of Rodeghan in hot pursuit. Then, bending down I seized hold of the little dog and, clutching him close, skidded down the grassy verge and leapt upright into the mall. I watched with complete awe as the two vehicles skidded straight past me, as the 626 revved up faster and faster, merging into another feeble blur, and, in one brilliant flash of light and burst of flame, completely disappeared.  
  
I heard the Knights scream as, dazed by the incredible display, they went crashing straight into a kiosk at the end of the parking lot, hitting it with great force and rendering themselves unconscious.  
  
I'd just sent myself on an incredible journey back in time, without realising that I was already standing there and watching the whole thing.  
  
I turned my attention to Drakken, racing up to his immobile body and falling to my knees.  
  
"Drakken!" I cried, releasing Commodore Puddles from my grip and taking hold of him. I shook him drastically several times. "Come on, Drakken, please!" But nothing. As I pulled him over, I could see the perfect holes in his coat through which several bullets had passed, going down deep into his body. I had clearly been too late.  
  
I was left with nothing better to do than break down and cry, burying my head in my arms and lying there on the rough tarmac. It just wasn't fair - I'd gone through everything, and yet still I'd failed to save his life. No matter how mean an unappreciative he had often been to me as an assistant, I was really gonna miss him. . . For a few moments, I could feel Commodore Puddles nosing me, as if he too could taste my pain. And then, he suddenly leapt up and growled. His characteristic growl; the one he usually gave to anyone who so much as looked at him. I looked up, in the direction he was growling, and, to my amazement, came face to face with Dr Drakken, sitting upright and looking somewhat blank.  
  
"You're alive!" I cried. "But how. . ."  
  
Looking pretty unsure himself, he tore open his lab coat to reveal something I'd never have suspected - a smart and stylish bullet-proof vest, with a multitude of shiny silver bullets, stopped dead in their tracks and hanging there firmly in the rugged material.  
  
"A bullet-proof vest! But. . .how did you know? I. . .I never had a chance to tell you. . ."  
  
He smiled, and reached into a pocket on the inside of his lab coat, to retrieve a small piece of paper, then held it out to me. Still puzzled, I took it. The paper had been folded up into four neat squares, but as I unfolded it, it revealed itself to be a pretty murky, stained and crumbled sheet of paper, with the letters inked upon it only just legible above the stains. Squinting down at those letters, I could make out the words, "Dear Drew Lipsky/Dr Drakken. On the night that I go back in time, you will be shot by terrorist knights. Please take whatever precautions are necessary to prevent this horrible tragedy from happening. Your friend, Shego."  
  
"My note!" I exclaimed. "You read it! But. . . what about all that stuff that Drew Lipksy kept on telling me? All that talk about screwing up future events, and the temporal continuum?"  
  
He grinned. "Yes, Shego, but you're forgetting - Drew Lipksy became Dr Drakken. And he figured, what the hell?"  
  
***  
  
And so Chapter 7 draws to an end. . .but the fanfic is far from over. I've got loads more chapters on the way. Here's a sneak peak at Chapter 8:  
  
So, after her long struggle, Shego's finally made it back to the year 2003. But not everything about it is quite as she remembered. . .and if she thought that her time barrier-defying days would soon be behind her, then she was mistaken!  
  
Actually, I'm really looking forward to writing the second phase of this story (the BTTF II spoof), as I've got some great ideas lined up for it. So far, while others have been referenced, Drakken, Shego, Commodore Puddles, the Knights of Rodeghan and DNAmy have been the only 'Kim Possible' villains to have appeared, but many more are set to feature in upcoming chapters, along with loads more movie references and parodies snuck in here there and everywhere.  
  
Off the record, does anyone get the significance of Drew Lipsky owning a scruffy ginger cat called Oliver in the year 1988?  
  
Here's to hoping that I'll write these chapters well and that you'll enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy writing. Which reminds me, please review this chapter having read it, and let me know what you think. Thanks for reading, and an extra big bonus thanks if you intend to review. 


	8. Ron Stoppable

Hey, welcome back. Chapter Eight is now at the ready. If you're a long- time faithful reader then please, continue. If you've just be joined us, but can't be bothered to go back and read my previous 27105 words, then your luck's in, cos I've decided to start opening each chapter with a brief recap of previous events, so people don't get confused or lost in the lavish maze of this ever growing fanfic. (Still, shame on you! You ought to take time to read the full story. I admit though, I'm often no better myself. Shame on me also. . .I'll try to practice what I preach).  
  
However, I don't have time right now, so it'll have to wait until Chapter Nine. Sorry!  
  
Disclaimer - I own none of the characters or concepts in 'Kim Possible' and 'Back to the Future'. But I think that goes without saying.  
  
***  
  
We scarpered from the parking lot quickly, before the Knights of Rodeghan had a chance to come to. Slipping sleekly through the streets, I led Dr D back down the shadowed side street where I'd been forced to abandon to futile 626. There it was, still in good condition, safe and untouched.  
  
"My 626!" he exclaimed, racing over and embracing the exhausted machine. "I promise I'll never let you out of my sight again!"  
  
"Hey, I took good care of it, doc! You wouldn't believe the incredible adventure that thing took me on!"  
  
"Of course I would, Shego - I was there!" he snapped. "And I've been waiting fifteen agonising years for this moment to at last take its merciful toll! When you came to me with this wonderful machine back in the summer of 1988, I knew from that moment on, when I got a glimpse of my destiny, that I would always await the day when I'd finally get my own chance to travel through time! And that's exactly what I'm gonna do now! I'm going to take that temporal-defying trip that I've always dreamed of!"  
  
"You're going to travel through time yourself?" I asked. "Right here, right now? Doc, I hate to break it to you, but we've got work to do. . ."  
  
"That can wait, Shego. Besides, using this thing, I can do it in absolutely no time at all! Once I refill this thing with plutonium, I can set off to the distant future and be back in an instant as far as the rest of this contemporary world is concerned!"  
  
I sighed. I guessed there was no stopping Drakken. I just hoped he knew what he was doing. My first taste of time travel had served to teach me just how dangerous the whole damn thing can be. Anyway, first things first, we still had to return to our current lair, just to gather the fuel to even mobilise his beloved machine. Attaching it to our usual vehicle, we made the journey back, my heart still beating fairly fast, and, rather oddly, my left arm itching. I hate it when I itch, in any area of my body. Yeah, I know that's hardly an unusual peeve, but for me, when you think about it, itching is a particularly cruel form of torture. It's always so difficult to scratch without leaving puncture marks in my skin. Having long sharp claws in place of nails does wonders for your self-defence and tin can opening-abilities, but it has its disadvantages too.  
  
"Will you stop that constant scratching, Shego?" Drakken growled. "It's getting to be very annoying!"  
  
"I can't help it, Drakken! And besides, it's hardly fun having flea bites all down your arm!"  
  
"Flea bites? Where do you come into contact with fleas? Commodore Puddles has had enough of that spray applied to be declared a parasite-free zone!"  
  
"Well, that cat of yours looked none too sanitary. . ."  
  
"What cat?" He looked somewhat puzzled.  
  
"You know, Oliver. That cat you had back in 1988."  
  
"Oh yes. . .Oliver." He sighed, sadly. "I remember him alright. . ."  
  
Nothing more was said on the matter. Drakken just stared forlornly out into space for the rest of the journey, his initial excitement only returning when our current lair finally loomed back into view. At this point, he was quick to root out the essential plutonium storage unit and fish out enough fuel to power the 626 for another two journeys, before dragging the device back outside and diving head-first into the front seat.  
  
"Are you coming, Shego?" he asked.  
  
"Nah - I've had enough experience with time travel already to last me for the rest of my life." I paused. "So, how far you going?"  
  
"About. . .fifteen years. It's a nice round number."  
  
"Look me up when you get there, won't you? I guess I'll be about forty. . ."  
  
"I guess so." He began to rev up the engine. "Oh yes, and Shego - I don't know for how long in your time I'll be gone. I'll try to get back as quickly as I can, but if something's up with the time circuits, and I don't get back quite as quickly as I'd hoped, then, whatever you do, *guard the supply of plutonium*! That matter is essential to the next phase in my scheme for world domination - without it, there can be no more time travel. And I have reason to believe that a certain teenage archnemesis is onto us on this one! So, if you see him anywhere in the perimeter of the lair. . . well, you know what to do!"  
  
"Seek and destroy - sure thing. Have a nice trip." He was already tearing half-way up the road before I clicked. "Did you say 'him'? *Him*? What are you talking about? Drakken!"  
  
But one flash of brilliant white and one burst of mild flame a mere split- second later and already he was gone.  
  
Thinking about it made me feel uneasy, considering all I'd recently been through, so I decided not to dwell on it and just get the one thing my body had been aching for the second we'd started this little escapade - some much-needed shut-eye. The second I returned to the cover of the lair, all I could do was lie down and go to sleep. Interestingly, Drakken didn't return in 'no time at all'. In fact he was actually gone for quite a while. I slept in for way longer than I meant to, waking up with a start at about 10:30 in the morning, when a trio of Drakken's henchmen came bursting in in a flurry.  
  
"Hey, yo, Shego!" one of them called. "Where the hell is Dr D?"  
  
"You mean he still isn't back yet? Well, I don't know, it's more a matter of *when* he is. . ." I could just imagine the guy out there on his own, winding up in the Middle Ages by mistake and getting burned at the stake for being a heretic - a pretty discomforting thought.  
  
"Well, whatever, Shego, we have a problem - our security cameras have detected a pair of intruders attempting to infiltrate the lair! You have any idea what they've come for."  
  
"Hmm. . .that can't be too hard to figure out! Whatever you do, don't let them take the plutonium! That stuff stays here at all costs! You guys had better block every possible escape route in the building, and be sure to handle any dopey sidekicks that give you any aggro. . . just leave the real scourge up to me!"  
  
Yeah, I'd gone easy on Kim as a kid, sparing her life and all, when I could have just as easy crushed her to a pulp. Now though, she had no excuses. There was no reason now why I shouldn't take care of business. . . she was a threat to all our future prospects, and left me with no choice but to eradicate her on the spot. Slightly personal, but no matter. And it was gonna be so, so sweet. . .my reward for being so patient with things back in 1988.  
  
"You can run, but you can't hide, girl!" I jeered, racing round the mountains of crates in the main body of the lair. "Just lay back and prepare to be pulverised!"  
  
And, my taunting didn't go without response. A teenage adversary leapt out from the cover of the crates and landed directly in my path. Only, it wasn't Kim Possible. I growled, impatiently. I had no time for games. Kim's dopey sidekick. . .his name always escapes my mind, but hey, it's not important. Oh sure, I'm a sidekick myself, so I'm usually one for ensuring that they get a decent share of respect and recognition for all their devotion in this main guy-centric world, but, well you really gotta be worthy of that respect in the first place. This guy - no dice.  
  
"Hey, get out the way, loser sidekick!" I snapped, continuing to run and aiming a blow.  
  
"Who are you calling 'loser sidekick', loser sidekick?" he snapped back, dodging my blow with such amazing agility that for a few micro-seconds I was stunned, giving him time to land full on his feet. "And I've told you a thousand times never to mess with Ron Stoppable!"  
  
I laughed, recovered. "Or what? You'll punch my lights out with your constant slew of lame distractions?"  
  
"No - why should bother with distractions when I can do it with the skin on my bare fists!" Without warning, he suddenly sent himself flying at me, clenched hand outstretched. "Eat knuckle sandwich, Shego!"  
  
POW! I skidded back, face smarting hard with the impact of fist against jaw. His punch packed a lot of weight, and it took me by surprise too.  
  
"Hey, since when did you become Mr Physical?"  
  
"What? You're kidding me? I've already kicked your sorry butt a thousand times!"  
  
I flashed my green plasma rays in fury. "What? You couldn't beat up a comatose possum with its paws tied behind its back! You're about as weak and wimpy as dopey sidekicks get! You know full well that if it wasn't for your stupid friend you'd have been pulverised a long time ago!"  
  
"Hello? Anybody home? I am NOT a sidekick! I'm Ron Stoppable, the fast, the fearless and the furious! Every evil-doers nightmare, every lady's dream! Unless of course that lady also happens to be an evil-doer! You know why I'm here, Shego - we've traced the supply of stolen plutonium originally thought to be the possession of the Knights of Rodeghan to your lair, and it's our job to ensure that it's safely returned!"  
  
"Yeah? You and what army?"  
  
"This one! These little guys right here!" he retorted, flashing two hands worth of knuckles and lunging himself at me once again. More wary this time, I was able to evade a few of his blows and get in several good hits myself, but still nothing could have prepared me for just how tough he'd be in full combat. I fired green destructive rays straight at him - he didn't seem in the least bit spooked. He just dodged the full onslaught as it came and gave me a second helping of those knuckle sandwiches, complemented with a side helping of designer leather boot sub to the shin. I high- kicked and low-chopped back with all the strength and energy I could muster, but he instantly matched it with full-on synchrony. And he really showed no mercy. One particularly heavy kick sent me skidding back against the crates yelping.  
  
"Maybe you'll learn your lesson this time, Shego - don't mess with Ron Stoppable! Now, give me the whereabouts of Drakken and the stolen plutonium!"  
  
"I ain't finished yet!" I growled, scrambling back to my standard battle poise.  
  
I suppose our bouting could have gone on for a lot longer, only the whole confrontation was suddenly shattered by a piercing female scream, which rang hard against the walls of the lair.  
  
He turned back to me. "Well, as much as I'd love to continue dishing out pain Shego, I gotta go right now. My sidekick sounds like she's in trouble. As par usual. . ."  
  
And with that, he leapt away over the crates in the direction of the scream. Still smarting with both bruising and confusion, I raced up after him, scrambling over to have a good view of Drakken's henchmen clustering gleefully around their latest catch. Squinting down, my assumption that the hapless girl they'd encircled would be Kim Possible was quickly cast aside. This captive clearly wasn't Kim. Who she was I had no idea. Whatever the deal, I still had a duty to take her out.  
  
But that irritating blonde-haired boy was well ahead of me. "Bonnie! Hey you goons, keep away from her!" Before I could do anything, he'd already bounded down and high-kicked the whole mob out before they had time to so much as raise their electric battle-rods. Actually, I had time to act (I can move faster than any of those goons), but for much of it I was still too paralysed with horror to move. Victorious, the blonde-haired boy - Ron Stoppable - punched a fist into the air, leapt up and whooped, but his companion seemed less than thrilled.  
  
"Ron! You just like ran off and left me again! I've told you never to do that when those dorks could be around! Just thinking about what they were gonna do to me freaks me out big time!"  
  
"Hey, that's not my problem, Bonnie, you were supposed to be the distraction! If you just did that job and happily took on the role of distraction without complaining, we'd get this whole thing done much faster!"  
  
"I'm like always the distraction! It's alright for you, you get it all - the action, the attention, the glory - and me. . . no wonder none of these creepazoids can ever remember my name!" She shrieked even harder as Commodore Puddles suddenly leapt up from nowhere and sank his teeth into the legging of her pants, ripping off a generous sample in one tug. "Hey! Those were designer jeans, you furry little freak of nature! You are so gonna pay!"  
  
At this point I finally snapped out of it and came bolting over, just as this 'Bonnie' struck out her foot at the little dog, who evaded it swiftly and devoured his booty on the spot.  
  
"Hold it right there!" I cried, still gasping for breath, but keeping myself firmly in battle poise, green gloves flaring. "Nobody move an inch!"  
  
"Oh, I notice that you're thirsty for more," Ron said, coolly, while that pathetic brown-haired girl clung to him shivering, at the sight of my brilliant green weapons. "Well then, you got it, cos we ain't leaving without that plutonium!" In about one tenth of a second he'd already flung himself over, this time aiming foot instead of fists. Once again, I was caught of guard, and sent flying back against the crates. Before I could even get myself together, I felt the daunting vibrations of wobbling crates, and soon felt the impact of crate against head as those at the top (which were fortunately empty - they're mostly for show) came tumbling down and smacked the whole world into whiteness.  
  
When I came too, I had an itchy arm, a bruised mouth *and* a splitting headache. Worse still, Ron and his companion were gone. And, when I raced back down to the storage unit, so too was the plutonium.  
  
I tried to be cool about it. I thought, it's no trouble. As soon as Drakken gets back (which, if he hasn't been abducted by genuine aliens, should be any time now), we can just jump in the 626 and go back a few hours and prevent this whole painful (and confusing) incident from ever happening. Co-ordinate everything so the vehicle 'accidentally' crashes into those teenage idiots on its journey back through time. We could fix it, easily. Then it occurred to me - without the plutonium, there was no time travel. Drat. Drakken wasn't gonna be pleased. Unless of course we could figure out how to harness another lightning bolt, or rather a few, depending on how many times this scheme required us to break down the time barrier - NO WAY.  
  
Just thinking about it all, it seemed odd. Since when did Kim's goofy sidekick learn to kick such convincing butt? It didn't make sense. He'd always been a hopeless fighter, just like Drakken. While I'd always had to stand Drakken's ground for him, Kim had always been the one doing all the fighting for her partner. . . and that was another thing - why was Kim nowhere to be seen? It wasn't like *her* to miss out on a mission against Drakken and I of any kind. And who the heck was that other girl - the really tetchy brown-haired one, who I'd never seen before in my life? What the hell was she doing on one of their pathetic missions?  
  
I didn't like where my thoughts were leading me.  
  
I thought hard, trying to debrief myself on everything that had happened on my journey back in time to 1988. In the end, Club Banana had been spared, and I'd done everything right as far as that franchise was concerned. . .could there possibly have been anything more that I'd changed. What about all that other stuff that I'd done? Kidnapping Kim Possible for one - well, I'd returned her hadn't I? So, things really should be going on as normal. . .shouldn't they? Shouldn't they? SOMEONE, GIVE ME ANSWERS PLEASE!!!!  
  
Turning, I raced back out into the main base of the lair, where Commodore Puddles was quick to greet me, springing forth and embracing my heel with his jaws.  
  
"Let go, you little monster!" I snapped, but some good it did. He just hung on tighter than ever, a mountain of froth suddenly spewing from his mouth.  
  
"It's a good thing you have a rabies certificate!" I sighed. I didn't have time. All I could do was carry on running, hoping the demonic dog would just give up and let go when he found himself unable to bear the friction. He didn't. He hung on, all the way to the vehicle. I ended up hurling him onto the back seat and leaping in and driving. It was kinda reassuring to know I was now in a car that wouldn't tear a hole in the fabric of time the second I revved up to 90, but not reassuring enough to calm my heart or sweat glands. My skin was going hyper with perspiration before I'd even had a chance to back up.  
  
When I finally reached Middleton, at long last, I continued to drive anxiously through the streets, glancing around desperately. Had anything really changed round here that, in my tired and desperate state, I'd failed to notice last night? Well, on the surface everything really looked the same. But something was definitely up. The sooner I got to the bottom of it, the better. I began to wish more than ever that Drakken was here. He'd probably know more about this kind of thing than I would. I was actually starting to worry about the guy. After all I'd gone through just to save him back then, he'd gone and got himself lost in that great temporal maze. Maybe it would have been better if I *had* gone with him.  
  
Kim was my arch foe, and one thing I knew well about her was her inability to resist pulling up a seat at that Bueno Nacho joint and unwinding with a light burrito after completing a mission. Pulling up outside the Mexican joint when it finally loomed into view, I leapt up and inspected it thoroughly from the outside. No, nothing about this place had changed in any way either despite, fifteen years ago, being the site for what must have been one of the most horrific young child abductions this suburban slice of life could have know. And, on the inside. . . well, it was certainly different to the Good Burger interior of the late eighties that I'd become used to over the past week of *my* life, but that wasn't my fault. It was all set to happen anyway - a delightful family-run business to be taken over by a big heartless chain corporation - and I don't reckon that I could have done back there would have the power to change that. Stepping inside, I sighed, totally exhausted. I'd had just about enough of time-travel and its cruel and unusual side-effects. I needed a drink. A strong one. Another non-diet cola would do fine.  
  
Absent-mindedly, I handed across made my order and slipped loose change across the counter without so much as making eye-contact. When, sipping my comfort beverage, I finally summoned the nerve to look upwards, I almost choked when I saw who'd served me. And screamed.  
  
"Kim Possible?! Is that really you?"  
  
She backed away nervously, looking slightly startled, and even more fashion sense-deprived than usual in the Bueno Nacho staff uniform. "Yeah. . .you know me?"  
  
"Do I know you?" I mimicked, sarcastically.  
  
"Well, not many people do. I tend to keep a, you know, low profile round here. . ."  
  
"You work in *Bueno Nacho*?"  
  
"Oh yeah, I've had a job round here since I was fourteen! It took a while to persuade my parents to let me have it, but, well they're only looking out for my best interests. . .do I know you from somewhere?"  
  
"Maybe. . .you work in a fast food joint? That doesn't make sense! Kim, whatever happened to your job as a teenage superheroine - you know, fighting supervillains?"  
  
She looked puzzled, then burst out laughing. "Yeah right! Like my parents would even let me stray one millimetre from this town on my own! You have any idea how dangerous the outside world can be? I couldn't handle it. . .Ron Stoppable, though - now there's an outside world-handling machine!"  
  
"Ron Stoppable?" Hearing that name was enough to make my head start throbbing all over again.  
  
"Yeah. . .now *he's* what I'd call a teenage superhero. Only the coolest, dreamiest guy in school. . .and he can do anything! You should see him in action - the countless things he's done! He's saved cities from tidal waves, babies from burning buildings, and stopped countless villains from taking over the world, including the terrifying DNAmy! Pretty cool resume` for a guy who's still in high school, don't you think? Oh yeah, and he's also a great artist - his parents were good enough to save for years just to put him through art tuition!"  
  
Uh oh. It was suddenly all starting to come together - the pieces in this diabolical flashback jigsaw.  
  
As I dashed down my cola in virtually one gulp, I tried to put things into perspective. Was it really all that important if the roles of my sworn teenage enemies had been shuffled round just a little bit? I mean, even if I wasn't fighting Kim Possible any more, and, by the course of this particular time-zone, never had been, I was still in the same position, right? It was still my job to prevent Dr Drakken's plans for world domination (wherever, or whenever, the guy could possibly be right now) from being foiled by meddling kids. So I had a slightly new arrangement of foes to get used to. . .big deal. It couldn't make all that much difference in the long run, could it? That new Ron had looked as though he was capable of delivering pretty much the same aggro that I'd been used to seeing Kim dish out. If I didn't say anything to Drakken (if he returned), I could get by. No problem. All I had to do now was track down that Ron and Bonnie and reclaim our share of lost plutonium.  
  
The only thing troubling me slightly was that reference to DNAmy. What was that supposed to mean? But, rather than worrying about it, I just decided to sweep it under the carpet, so to speak, and get on with my clear-cut mission. For now.  
  
Only, I'd barely stepped outside when I was almost knocked down by a speeding car, which appeared from nowhere in a blinding burst of white light and mild flame trailing down the tarmac of the nearby road, and crashed into the hapless vehicle in which I'd come. Commodore Puddles leapt out, whining, and flailed helplessly around the drive-through in his shock.  
  
"Drakken!" I cried. "You're back!" I held up my watch, deliberately. "Hmmm, you're a little off time, aren't you? You said you'd be back in no time at all as far as I was concerned!""  
  
Tearing himself out from behind the wheel, looking more solemn than usual, he raced over and seized me firmly by the shoulders. "Shego! You've gotta come back with me!"  
  
"Back where?"  
  
"Back to the future! Something's happened - I need your help!"  
  
"Yeah, erm. . .listen Doc. . .you can't go back. . .I kinda. . .lost the plutonium, okay?!"  
  
"You think I don't already know that? You forget, I've seen the future, Shego! I've seen it with my very own eyes! But, something has gone spectacularly wrong, and I need you to come back with me and help me fix it!"  
  
"But how, if there's no fuel?"  
  
"There's plenty of fuel - look!" He pointed to the trashcans located behind the Bueno Nacho joint. "In the year 2018 I had a fuel conversion done on this thing to make it more energy efficient! Screw the whole damn plutonium thing - this wonderful device now runs on regular household garbage! Help me fill it up and we'll go!"  
  
I pointed to the confused canine only inches from us. "What about Commodore Puddles? Are we just gonna leave him here?"  
  
"No - bring him along too - you never know when a depraved little wannabe- rabid can come in handy! Just toss him on the back seat and get this thing filled up!"  
  
Handling the stuff you find in the back-alley trashcans of a fast food joint was hardly a chore in comparison to handling Commodore Puddles. The fuel vault filled, I leapt into the front seat and strapped myself in, still slightly unsure, as Drakken did the same.  
  
"Oh yeah, and Drakken, you might want to drive around a bit until you find a better road," I advised. "You're not gonna have enough space round here to do 90. . ."  
  
"Roads?" He grinned. "Where we're going we don't need roads!"  
  
With that, he suddenly pulled the gear-stick and caused the entire vehicle to eject itself from the ground and fire itself forward into the skies above. Getting a front seat view of it all, I could've sworn that that non- diet cola was about to eject itself from my digestive system too. . .  
  
***  
  
Okay, thank you! Thank you all! You know the deal now, my dear beloved readers - show me how much you care by filling in the review forms and dishing out your opinions. It won't take a minute, and having a fresh new batch of reviews to read will make me so happy.  
  
See you soon with Chapter Nine - here's a sneak preview to wet your appetites!  
  
Dr Drakken and Shego have now travelled forward in time to the year 2018 to prevent the former's future from being disrupted, where the world has become a very different place, and Shego may have to face up to some unpleasant truths. . .  
  
Stay tuned! 


	9. 2018

Disclaimer - This is a fanfic. I don't know what you were thinking, but it has nothing to do with the authorised minds behind 'Kim Possible', 'Back to the Future', or any other film or TV show it references (this particular chapter involves light 'Waterworld' parodies too).  
  
Firstly, sorry that this has taken longer than usual, but you wouldn't believe how much work I've had to do lately.  
  
Okay, as promised, I'll open this chapter with a major update, for the sake of all those readers who've only just joined us and can't be bothered to read the previous chapters. Well, you guys are missing out on a hellava lot, but at least you shouldn't get confused from now on:  
  
The story so far - Well, in the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people angry and is widely considered a bad move. Billions of years after this event, a deranged scientist named Dr Drakken with a world-domination fixation did the incredible and built a working time machine in a Peugeot 626, capable of taking passengers on instantaneous journeys back and forth through time, in the hope that he'd be able to exploit the time continuum. To power this complex device, he'd previously cheated the Knights of Rodeghan out of a stolen supply of plutonium, and, while he was testing his machine out in the Middleton mall parking lot with his assistant Shego, they uncovered his whereabouts and came and gunned him down. Shego, however, was lucky enough to escape by diving into the 626 and inadvertently sending herself on a roller-coaster ride back to the summer of 1988, only to run out of plutonium and become stranded. Her only hope of returning to the year 2003 came in the form of Drew Lipsky, Drakken's unsuspecting 1988 guise, who'd figured out how to activate the 626 by harnessing a bolt of lightning, due in a week's time. During her stay in this perilous age Shego managed to put the future of designer fashion line Club Banana in jeopardy when she accidentally prevented the two minds behind its creation, Loraine Baines and George McFly, from ever crossing paths, and created further havoc when she intentionally abducted the infant form of her future arch foe, Kim Possible. However, after much emotion and difficult decision-making, she decided to return Kim, unharmed, and to save Club Banana. Despite some trouble caused by the future DNAmy, previously corrupted by Shego, she was more-or-less successful and, with Drew Lipksy's help, was returned safely to the year 2003 when the lightning bolt struck. There, she returned to the scene of her initial escape, to discover that Drakken had survived the shooting thanks to a bullet-proof vest, having been warned of the Knights by Shego in a letter she left Drew Lipsky back in 1988.  
  
In our most previous chapter, Shego now had to face up to the fact that, despite her utmost efforts, this 2003 she'd returned to didn't quite match the one she'd left. Side-effects of her little visit meant that Ron, now having never been to Camp Wannaweep, never became a sissy and instead made it successfully as a world-saving teenage superhero, with Bonnie Rockwaller as his sidekick. Kim, meanwhile, has had to settle for a job in Bueno Nacho. Now, Shego's days of defying the time barrier must continue, as Drakken, having arrived back from his own curiosity trip to the future, has mysteriously called her, and his twisted dog Commodore Puddles, to return there with him on an undisclosed mission. Thanks to some adjustments performed in the future, the 626 now has two bonus features - firstly, it can now run off regular household garbage, and secondly, it is capable of flight.  
  
The story continues now. . .  
  
Oh yeah, and an important note - even though Ron has now never been to Camp Wannaweep, I still think that Gill would've ended up as a mutant. He could have just as easily found some other weedy kid to trade arts and crafts with for more swim time, and he'd still probably refuse to leave the water. That poor kid was doomed the second he entered that camp - it seems kinda unfair, in my view, to blame Ron for what happened in 'Sink or Swim', but I forgive Gill. . .he's one of the coolest villains, after all.  
  
***  
  
So there we were. Racing through sky and cloud at 90 miles an hour. Another blinding flash and great vibration, and there we were again, still racing through the heavy atmosphere of the world above. For a moment, clouds aside, the whole area seemed pretty clear and tranquil, like we'd just escaped from the perilous world down below and found our way up to a blissful haven up in the skies, until of course a great yellow vehicle suddenly appeared out of nowhere and almost smacked head-first into us. We swerved to avoid it, only inches from collision, as its horn honked angrily and I screamed like crazy, digging my claws deep into the seat.  
  
"What the hell was that?" I cried.  
  
"A taxi cab," Dr D replied, coolly.  
  
"A taxi cab? I thought we were flying. . ." Dumb question. This car could now fly, couldn't it? "So, where are now? I mean, when are we now, Doc?"  
  
"Exactly where I said we were going - we're back in the good old year 2018. August 2nd 2018, to be precise. I've called you here, Shego, because I'm going to need your help."  
  
"In the future?"  
  
"Of course. Something has gone spectacularly wrong in this future, and you're the only one I know who has the capabilities required to handle this crisis! But first, I'll have to warn you - there's a strong chance that you're going to get wet!"  
  
"Wet?"  
  
"That's right," he replied. "Long story short, between now and the time we departed the year 2003 there's been a slight bit of trouble with the ozone layer, and, well, the ice caps have kinda melted. Result - this entire dismal planet is now covered in water, and what survives of civilisation now does so in sparse little floating communities. The flying taxi cabs notwithstanding of course - people who've tried to escape all responsibilities down here on the surface by taking to the skies in their gliding vehicles for a long term refuge tend to keep out of affairs down below."  
  
Whoa. Nothing like a spoonful of heavy news to make the travel sickness go down. "Really? It all happened that fast?"  
  
"Yes, turns out that humanity, in its entire pitiful state of being, had seriously underestimated the potential impact of continually burning fossil fuels on the environment!"  
  
Man, he wasn't kidding. Tearing downwards through the clouds, all that was waiting there to greet us was a huge stretch of water that covered all grounds. That was everything. Water water everywhere but not a drop to drink.  
  
"Hey, what the heck happened to that stupid Bueno Nacho joint?" I asked. "It was around here somewhere. . . "  
  
"In the year 2003 maybe," Drakken informed me. "But that's all over now, Shego. Any Mexican-type restaurant that may have existed here fifteen years ago will now be gone, I'm afraid - buried deep under all that water you see below you. Just like every other building in Middleton! Or at least, the Old Middleton. That's why the survivors all picked up and headed over to New Middleton - which is right over there! Prepare yourself for landing, Shego!"  
  
New Middleton. It's kinda hard to describe, so I'll limit it to this - it was like looking at a whole bunch of great floating rafts sewn together, implemented with a variety of crudely constructed buildings from old sticks and grass, with spindly looking palm trees sticking out the top of each corner. Just floating there, in the blazing sun, with, aside from the occasional taxi cab seen hovering above in the distant skies, very little in the way of futuristic development. Behold. . .the wonders of the not- too-distant future.  
  
"So, when did all this happen?"  
  
"Some time in 2016, or so I hear," he replied. "And things have been this way since. But, even if the vast majority of it lies buried beneath a mass of murky water, believe me, Shego, this is a world still well worth taking over - oh yes; the pitiful inhabitants of this semi-aquatic empire have yet to meet with the pure genius of the formidable world leadership of Dr Drakken!"  
  
Not a particularly heartening comment, given the context. "Aww, man! You mean, fifteen years on from the time I'm supposed to be in right now, and we *still* don't rule this damned stupid world?"  
  
"Don't question me, Shego! The way this current timeline is progressing, then no, of course we still don't rule this 'damned stupid world'! I haven't yet made any alterations to change that. Back in 1988, Shego, I'm sure you saw for yourself just how brittle the temporal continuum can be - one slight alteration to the past and the course of history changes forever. Some subtle, some delightfully crippling. . . that's why I built this time machine in the first place, as you may recall, to change the course of time. It was on my little leisure trip to the year 2018 that I ran into a slight little emergency involving my future self that I'm gonna have to fix, right here, right now. With a little help from you, Shego, we're about to embark upon a daring mission to change the course of history! Or rather, future history to you and I, of course."  
  
Okay, this is the point at which I'm gonna have to put my narrative on a brief hiatus and explain something to all you wiseguys out there about to scream, "Plot hole! Plot hole!" Yeah, I'm sure you all remember that first fateful night of our great misadventure, in which Drakken transported Commodore Puddles forward in time for one minute. And you're probably all thinking, "Hey, that trip was instantaneous to the cute little guy, wasn't it. . . but he wasn't he gone for that entire minute he skipped over? So, how the heck could Drakken and Shego have future selves here in 2018 if they've been stuck in that infernal 626 for the past fifteen years as far as time's concerned?" You guys watch too much TV.  
  
It all makes sense to me. Contrary to popular belief, having no idea what that stupid word 'nano' means doesn't make you an idiot - hey, I'm the one who has explain all this to you, aren't I? Basically, Commodore *was* gone for that entire minute as far as the Doc and I were concerned, but only because he didn't travel back to the time from which he'd set out. Otherwise things could have been pretty different. Time's non-linear, see? Dr D and I weren't heading out to 2018 with the intention of staying there. We knew full well that we'd be heading back to 2003 in time to pick up our lives exactly where we left them off, and our future selves could exist here perfectly logically having already travelled to this blunderful time zone and kissed it goodbye fifteen years ago. Sorry folks, but you'll have to dig deeper than that if you wanna pick holes in this story's logic!  
  
Okay, resume narrative - so there Drakken and I were, preparing to land on this dismal little floating community. Which was harder than it sounds. Impact of landing vehicle against the buoyant wooden parking lot was enough to make it shudder and shake unsteadily on the water's surface. It was a very unnerving sensation.  
  
"So, what do you want me to do?"  
  
"Oh, a very simple task that you of all people should have no trouble with, Shego," he replied. "I need you to take on a vicious gang of homicidal, weapon-wielding thugs, due to start arriving about ten minutes from now. Think you can handle that?"  
  
I've heard worse. "No problem, provided of course these thugs don't critically outnumber me . . . hey, Drakken, what the hell have 'thugs' got to do with *your* future?"  
  
"Right now. . . EVERYTHING, damn it! It's an atrocity I know, but Shego, there are a few vile facts you're going to have to get to grips with if you wish to survive for a single second out here in the world of 2018! Firstly, you've just arrived in a poor and desperate world that yearns for the days when dry land was rampart in the world and life was much more liberated and free from the cruel restrictions of nature. Many still speak of an unknown area where dry land still exists - a part of the world which even the strongest magnitude of saltwater could not smother, and which is still out there, uninhabited and waiting for new inhabitants to come by it and settle. In the future, it is my mission to seek out and seize hold of this dry land before any other creature dare set foot on it! Just imagine the possibilities of ruling the only allocation of dry land in the world! Why, the other residents of this pitiful planet would have no choice but to succumb to my authority! Unfortunately, I'm not the only one out there intent on seeking out dry land - this is where those gangs come in. See, of all the vicious gangs that roam this watery world terrorising whatever dare lie in their path, none are feared more than the Hammerheads, who too are determined to seize this elusive dry land before anyone else. Success? Impossible! It is there incredulous belief that someone, somewhere or another, inexplicably found the need to tattoo a map to dry land on the back of some poor pitiful child - a curious theory which for some reason motivates them to head all around this miserable globe, tearing up all civilisation along the way in their search for this mysterious child. And, sadly, they'll be arriving here in the New Middleton in roughly eight minutes. . ."  
  
"And that bothers you?"  
  
"Of course it does! Why shouldn't it bother me, when, in this future, I'm one of the very people they decide to lay waste to! I've seen it all, Shego - whilst settling in Middleton right now in an attempt to formulate my latest scheme, I'm only too unlucky to be captured by the Hammerheads in the course of their rampage. In the future, I am one of the very individuals they aim to destroy most - they know me who I am all too well; an evil genius only too capable of seizing power way ahead of them and crushing their puny little gang before they've even had a chance to pull in their transportation. That's why they want me dead - they know that, if I live, the day will soon come when I, and not they, find dry land and rule this futile world! Up until now, my future self has always been able to elude them. But this time. . .well, they'll catch me off guard and sentence me to. . ." He shuddered. "Recycling. Not a pleasant process at all, and not one which I can allow to happen to myself at any time in the future!"  
  
"What exactly does 'recycling' involve?" I asked.  
  
"Well, human beings are thought to have initially arisen from mud, aren't they? So this process tends to put you back into the mud - to drown! It's not pretty by any standards! I knew, when I saw all this happen, I had to stop it, but I myself, as you know all too well, don't have the power in me to take on such a powerful group of thugs - you're the only one I know who has the power to do that, Shego. So that's why I called you here - I need you to rescue my future self."  
  
"Well, I guess I could handle it," I replied, rather bewildered. "It's just that, well, Drakken. . .why would *you* need the current me to fix things right now? If you're still into this business of trying to dominate the world fifteen years from now, why can't the future you just rely on the future me to dive in and save you?"  
  
"The future you? Dive in and save me? Ha!" He laughed for a short while, then ground to a halt when he realised how horrified I was looking. "Oh, right - of course you were being serious. . ."  
  
"Dra-kk-en. . ." I stressed, suddenly feeling very tense. "I did. . .survive this flooding in 2016, didn't I?"  
  
"Oh yes, of course. You got out of it fine."  
  
"Then why. . ."  
  
"It's much more complicated than that, Shego. I'll explain later, if you like, but for now there isn't really much time to dig up the irrelevant little details that don't quite fit this particular scene. For now, let's just say that you're on a sort of. . .vacation, and that's why you're unavailable right now."  
  
I wasn't happy, suddenly having a very good reason to feel more flustered than I already did, but right now I didn't have much choice but to leave the vehicle and step out into the unsturdy wooden world around me.  
  
"Okay, Shego, I'm returning to the skies right now for safety while you take care of business! All I need you to do for now is head down to the New Middleton Bueno Nacho joint and wait there for the action to begin!" He began to steer the 626 back up from the wooden platform once more. "That's where they're going to strike first! You'll recognise the gang I speak of when they get there - and when they do, you're to pulverise them on the spot, before they have a chance to bring this entire place down and come across my future self in the process!"  
  
"Consider it done!" I replied.  
  
"Good. . .oh yes, and one more thing, Shego - don't do anything more than you've just been instructed! Aside from dealing with this obnoxious team of thugs, you're under a strict obligation not to tamper with anything else around here! Don't touch anything, don't talk to anyone, and, most importantly of all - don't look at anything! Good luck!"  
  
And with that, he took off with the car and Commodore Puddles, and left me standing there alone. Slowly, I turned and made my way along the wooden platform, wincing with every slight jerk it made in synchrony with the waves, eyes widening with a mixture of horror and awe as I finally arrived at the centre of this bewildering floating 'town'. Boy had things changed since the year 2003.  
  
Aside from the whole setting, and the fact that every building was so crudely constructed from grass and wood, it wasn't really such a bad little burg, complete with all the luxuries of a regular suburbia - bars, nightclubs, a library claiming to house the last surviving copy of 'Vanity Fair', adequate living conditions. . . it didn't take me too long to track down the next best thing it had to that Bueno Nacho joint - a much more modest looking Mexican fast food bar, with rather little on offer, according to the menu, but that was still capable of attracting pretty much the same sort of steady crowds; mini gatherings of starving people gathered round the tiny wicker tables, all anxiously awaiting the first signs of nourishment. Sighing, I stepped inside and made a order of my own.  
  
"FORTY FIVE BUCKS FOR A COLA?!" I was soon heard exclaiming. "This really IS the future!"  
  
"Look, do you want this cool refreshing drink or not?"  
  
"Not at that price I don't!"  
  
"Hey, what did you expect? This is a very rare and elusive drink we have here - most of the cola trees and sugar farms died out in the great flood. If you want stock as difficult to bring in as this non-diet cola here, well, you really gotta be prepared to pay the minimum cost. I mean, it's not like we're making much of a profit - I'll have you know that roughly 80% of that dough is going toward the costs of postage and packaging for this infernal drink - it ain't exactly free! You're lucky we even have one here to offer you right now on demand - most of the stuff we serve has to be ordered months in advance. Table 9 - I believe you're still waiting on your order from the 17th of June, aren't you?"  
  
"Haven't got anything better to do right now," the old man at Table 9 grumbled in response.  
  
"There you see!" The woman at the counter, who, despite having aged for 15 years, looked only too familiar to me, turned her fiery gaze back on my direction. "It ain't easy being behind the counter either, having to put up with these people every day - now, for the last time, are you taking this stupid drink or not?"  
  
"Forget it, Kimmy," I replied. "It seems like a pretty good offer, but unless you're willing to haggle that down to six dollars and 78 cents, which is all I have, then I'm afraid the deal's off!"  
  
Sighing, I glanced doggedly round the interior of the diner and collapsed at a secluded table in the corner, doing my best to stay alert for the arrival of my latest adversaries, but finding it hard not to feel somewhat dazed and dejected. Even the fact that Kim Possible, in the timeline I'd inadvertently created, was still stuck in this lousy dead-end job in her thirties, couldn't amuse me out of my angst. I was still thinking about what Drakken had said. About the future me. Apparently I'd survived the flooding, but, all the same, it wouldn't take a supergenius to work out that something wasn't quite right. . .I just wished that Drakken would have told me straight out, instead of leaving me in the lurch like this.  
  
"Hey! Wait a minute! Don't I know you from somewhere?"  
  
I gulped and looked up. There, sitting in the table opposite to mine, was someone I'd come to know all too well by this stage. Fifteen years, or rather, thirty, since our last encounter, she was sitting there, her precious 'otter-fly' plush pinned tight to her chest, gazing at me with a glance that could only be described as suspicious.  
  
"DNAmy?"  
  
"That's right! And you recognise me? I'm flattered! I could have sworn that I'd recognised you from somewhere too. . ."  
  
"From where?" I wriggled nervously in my seat, only hoping that she didn't mean what I was thinking. . . this time travel business was hard enough without being labelled as an alien at every turn.  
  
She made her way over, cautiously. "Well, you look so much like that idiot Shego it's really kinda creepy. . .but a good decade or so younger. . .are you a relative of hers or something?"  
  
Now this, surprisingly, was reassuring - for a start, DNAmy appeared to be making no link between me as I was now and the 'extra terrestrial' who'd made mincemeat of her car tyres back in 1988. And what's more, she seemed to be more or less confirming my hope that I was still around, alive and well, in the year 2018 - there she was, speaking of my future self as part of the present tense. But heck, nothing could make me feel in the least bit secure around DNAmy - the last thing I was gonna do was let onto my identity or mission to anyone, let alone the same villain who'd almost sabotaged my exploits on the last occasion. So I simply just nodded. Yeah, I could play myself of as a relative of myself only too easily.  
  
"Yeah, I thought so." She paused. "Tough break, kid, being related to a total butthead!"  
  
"What? What are you talking about?"  
  
"I'm talking about your relative, girl - you know. . . Shego. . .Ms Loser. . . Ms Loser with a capital 'L'! The supervillain who took her life and completely flushed it down the toliet!"  
  
"I did? I mean, she did?" Suddenly, everything else about the situation - the Hammerheads, Drakken's mission, the cost of a non-diet cola, the entire reason for me even being here in the year 2018 - all was wiped clean from my mind. Nothing else seemed to matter any more. "Wh. . .what happened?" I didn't care what Drakken had said. Something wasn't right, and I had to find out from someone - it might as well have been DNAmy.  
  
"Tsk. For crying out loud, girl, she's your relative! And you don't even know what happened to her, when practically everyone else around these parts does!" She shook her head in disbelief. "Wow, stupidity sure does run in the family. It's not the side of genetic science that I'm into, though. The only thing about genetic science that I love is. . ."  
  
"Splicing animal genes to create freaking freaks of nature! I know!"  
  
"Hey, don't be such a meanie, girl! I'll have you know that those 'freaks of nature' are a stroke of genius - my own life-size, living Cuddle Buddies! With those creatures, I went where no cuddler has ever gone, built the most invaluable collection in the world, and, with the help of my more aquatic creations, was able to escape the flooding back in 2016 and revive my business back up here in the new way of living! But hey, there's more to splicing genetic mutations than simply adding to a historic collection - those beautiful little darlings are essential to my entire masterplan. . . for seizing dry land and achieving total world domination!"  
  
"Wait a minute - *you* actually care about world domination? You're into that kind of thing too?"  
  
"Hello? Anybody home? Of course I'm 'into it'! How the hell did you know who I was if you didn't know what I do? Oh yeah, I've been trying to take over the world ever since high school, back in 1988. The idea never would have crossed my mind, only. . . some really freakish human life form turned up one day and. . . one thing led to another!"  
  
Eep. I shuddered for a few moments. This was all way to much. . .a DNAmy on the same wavelength as Drakken?  
  
"Those life-sized, living cuddle buddies always made great weapons," she continued. "That's no lie - they could attack cities and trash civilisations, kidnap and terrorise, strike fear into the hearts of all those who opposed me. All was going so well for DNAmy up until 2016 - she got thwarted by that idiot Ron Stoppable and his loser sidekick, whose name forever escapes my mind, a fair number of times, but she never gave up hope and continued until even they were showing signs of weakening. I put together everything, in every form - ants the size of elephants, who invaded cities in their swarms, psychopathic-minded birds who'd fly down and attack innocent bystanders for no apparent purpose whatsoever, even a real-life version of the Furby that became the best-selling 'toy' of Christmas 2000, until of course when people discovered that getting them wet or feeding them after midnight could have disastrous results. . . it was the great flooding that really messed things up a bit. Threw everything off course. But for me, well, at least I had a chanced to pick up and carry on somehow. . .this Shego character, well, her loser life had already hit rock bottom and been glued there long before that happened!"  
  
"Uh huh - go on. . ." Suddenly, I was feeling queasy again. I was still having troubles keeping that last non-diet cola down.  
  
"Yeah, well, of course I've never been the only supervillain out there trying to seize the world. There have always been others - the Senors, Duff Killagan, Monkey Fist - but none of them could ever stand a chance against the fearless Ron Stoppable, let alone me. Anyhow, there's always been this one blue jerk with a ponytail named Dr Drakken, this freakin' mad scientist who reckons, for some reason, he's the intellectual superior to everyone else on the planet and that they should all bow down and worship him, but who has about as many brain cells as a mule has webbed feet - with the exception of my special, super amphibious mules of course. If it wasn't for your relative, Shego, who served as his sidekick, he wouldn't have stood even a fighting chance - fighting, after all, was one of the things he was least capable of!" A short interlude for some laughter, whilst I just shrank even lower in my seat. "Shego, well, she had potential. She could really kick butt back when she was in her early twenties. Then of course, she had her little accident - ha! That's when things really went downhill for her. It's almost like it started an entire chain reaction that totally messed up her life - she was never able to fight again, ended up having to quit Drakken's employment and spend the next fifteen years just moping around and feeling sorry for herself, and well, Drakken, let's just say he's never been nearly as successful since Shego left him; his entire operation has like totally fallen apart. It's only a matter of time, in fact, before Brick Flagg and the other Hammerheads get their hands on him - I know they've been after him for a long time!"  
  
The word 'Hammerheads' sparked a small memory, but aside from that my mind remained completely numb. Words can not describe how horrified I suddenly felt. I could barely even lift a finger. . .it was almost as though DNAmy had just stuffed another dosage of that chemical stuff into my mouth, only this time my mind hadn't remained so full intact.  
  
Finally, I found the nerve to tremble, "Accident. . .? What accident?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, about that. . ."  
  
But she never had a chance to finish. Before she could even finish her sentence, a tough, blonde-haired man in his early thirties suddenly burst into the joint, clad in leather, denim and shark-tooth accessories, and, on his biceps, a very vivid tattoo of a hammerhead shark.  
  
"Hey, DNA!" he roared. "That aquatic mule you sold me has been acting up again - I told you, I want an aquatic horse!"  
  
"Aww, shut it, Brick!" she replied. "I told you, horses are much harder to come by in this world. Just treat that mule with the extra special love I've always told you to show my living Cuddle Buddies, and it'll act the way you want it to."  
  
"Extra special love? Don't make me sick! I know what I'm doing. Now, get out there and coax it out of the botanical garden!"  
  
"Hey, wait a minute!" I called to DNAmy. "You're in league with the Hammerheads?"  
  
"No, I just allocate them my living Cuddle Buddies for their health!" came the sarcastic response.  
  
"Then, you're aware that. . .they're about to destroy this place in around two minutes?" I should've been smarter. I should never have opened my mouth and said those words. But, I couldn't help myself. I'd lost my ability to think straight, and it wasn't coming back. I was still much too shaken from that sneak preview I'd just been given of my destiny. Accident. What accident? Why hadn't Drakken told me?  
  
DNAmy looked at me more suspiciously than ever. I saw her lean over to Brick, and hear her mutter, "Listen Flagg, that girl knows way too much. . .there's something about her that isn't quite right. . .she claims to be a relative of that loser Shego. . ."  
  
"Fine!" growled Brick, as four other thugs, dressed up in similar gear, and sporting a variety of strange weapons and the very same tattoo, appeared on the scene as DNAmy left. He swung his attention round to me, as I still sat there, yet to fully thaw from my frozen state of shock.  
  
"Hey, jerk!" he roared. "I hear you're onto us here!"  
  
He wasn't exactly the most discreet guy in the world. Several people in the joint, in fact really everyone, was looking over, cautiously, at the scene.  
  
"Hey, what are you all looking at? Just keep doing what you were doing and don't look over!" he ordered, while his foursome of henchmen assembled themselves in various positions around the building to ensure that his commands were strictly obeyed. He turned back to me. "Okay, girl, spill the beans - what do you know about the mutation?"  
  
"The mutation?"  
  
"Yeah - where is he?"  
  
"What mutation?" Was he talking about Drakken (though, aside from having blue skin I wouldn't exactly class him as a mutation)? Or one of DNAmy's diabolical creations?  
  
"Don't play dumb with me! You know who I'm talking about - and I know he's around here somewhere! He's green, slime-oozing and he calls himself. . .hey, Ned, what's his name again?"  
  
"He calls himself Gill," a fellow, much more spotty thug with spectacles called back.  
  
"Yeah, that's right - he calls himself Gill! And we're hear to fillet that flounder! He can't hide from us!"  
  
"I. . .I've never met this Gill. . ." It wasn't a lie. I had no idea what they were talking about, but I knew it wouldn't be good for me if I just let myself be cornered for much longer. I had to pull myself together and fight back, no matter how troubled I was feeling right now. All the same, I was puzzled. Where did Drakken come into all of this?  
  
"Well, you knew we were here for him, didn't you?" Brick growled in response. "You know what we're about to do here, don't you? I know that freaking fish has seized hold of that girl with the map to dry land tattooed across her back. . ."  
  
"Oh please, that's just an aquatic urban legend!" Kim Possible interjected from the counter, but she shut up fast when one of the Hammerheads, Ned, pointed his weapon straight at her.  
  
"And I know he was on his way here!" Brick continued, at me. "I was planning to issue a sort of, what d'you call em. . .hey, Ned!"  
  
"Ultimatum," replied Ned, coolly, suddenly turning his attention from Kim.  
  
"That's right, ultimatum! I was about to issue one of those! If that gruesome green piranha doesn't show himself in five seconds, we'd tear this whole place apart to get to him and that girl - but, of course, I can afford to be a little more patient right now, can't I? Seeing as how I now have a piglet can I can make squeal!"  
  
It took a while to click that by piglet he meant me.  
  
"Okay, little piglet!" he proclaimed. "Squeal!"  
  
"Don't call me that!" I growled, now starting to swing back into my normal self-mode, clenching my claws for battle and preparing to fire-up those destructive green rays.  
  
"Well, girl, you'd better start coughing up information, or we'll just have to find ways of talking you talk! You say you're related to Shego, don't you? And you remember what happened to her? Well, brace yourself good, because exactly the same is about to happen to you!"  
  
***  
  
Well, there you have it. Chapter 9. Man, this was a hard chapter to write, so I imagine it was also a hard one to read. Sorry if it got a little too confusing, but if there was any part that you critically did not understand, then let me know in your review and by all means I'll try and explain it. 'Back to the Future II' and 'Waterworld' are famous for being notoriously complex films, and while I don't think that the former film is all that hard to follow, the one time I saw 'Waterworld' I'll admit to being a little bewildered. It just seemed appropriate to include parodies of it in this chapter. Hope you enjoyed it any way, even if it got a little too 'heavy' in parts. Please let me know what you thought of this chapter or, if you're a new reviewer, the story so far, by granting me the odd review. I'd appreciate it.  
  
Well, it took me longer than usual to produce Chapter 9. I'll do my best to get Chapter 10 to you quickly, but right now I'm under a lot of pressure and stress at school, so it might take me a short while. Updating for this story will probably have to slow down over the next few weeks - I'll see if I can get back into my chapter-a-week pace when I have a bit more free time. Until then, be patient, I'll do my best.  
  
Here's a sneak peek at Chapter 10:  
  
The showdown is now on between Shego and Brick Flagg's Hammerheads. And, meanwhile, Shego is still troubled by the rumours of her own future. Until of course she spies the perfect opportunity to improve her life as it is the year 2003, unaware that she may be about to initiate a whole new temporal problem. . .  
  
Thanks for reading, I'll get Chapter 10 to you as quickly as I can. 


	10. Hoverboards

Disclaimer - Kim Possible, Back to the Future, Waterworld. . . I own none of it! But hey, I'm sure whoever does is making enough money already! Me, I'm making zilch out of these stories - I only do this because I love it! (And it makes me happy that so many of you love it too).  
  
Okay, sorry about the delay. Coursework troubles. Now, though I'm officially on my break, so let the good times roll, with the long-awaited Chapter 10! Where we left off, Shego had just been cornered by the repulsive 'Hammerheads', a gang of thugs led by Brick Flagg in the year 2018 (in which, incidentally, most of the world is now covered in water). Her mission is to defeat them all before they turn on the 2018 Dr Drakken and destroy him. However, a brief chat with the 2018 DNAmy has just shaken up Shego's confidence that a good future is heading her way. Quite the opposite could be the case, but exactly how remains a mystery.  
  
Okay, here we go!  
  
***  
  
At that, I yelped and sprang to my feet. "Hey, you're gonna regret ever threatening me, pal!"  
  
"You think so?" He laughed. They all did. Cruel, mocking laughter that cut deep. Nothing I couldn't handle though. Future doomed or future doomed not, my present had enough troubles of its own right now, and I had no choice but to defend it. Bracing myself, I flexed my digits and activated my gloves' green rays.  
  
A couple of the Hammerheads, the one named Ned included, jolted backward in shock. Brick though didn't blink an eye.  
  
"What the hell are those things supposed to do?" he asked, raising his weapon and directing it toward me.  
  
"These claws here, they could cut through you like tin foil! And these green rays, well. . . you don't wanna think what they could do. . ."  
  
"Take a hike, freak!" And he took aim and fired. Not the prettiest ammunition you'll ever see either - it came at me in a horrible burst of bullet and flame. As always, though, I was quick enough to make a leap and dodge the blow well before impact, skidding away in time to leave a singed and smoking hole in the building wall. Flames remained, flickering wildly from the deeply blemished wood and grass. Diners screamed and fled, in their masses, shrieking like a swarm of scalded cats, as the flames gained more and more ground and suddenly the whole of 2015 Bueno Nacho was alight.  
  
I would've scrambled out and made my bid for freedom too, but the Hammerheads wouldn't let me. They were still up for the chase.  
  
"Didn't you say you'd make us regret ever threatening you?" Brick Flagg called, taking another shot, and missing, only creating a second source of flame and fire in the process. "Well, come on! Make us regret it! Show us what those rays can do that's so unthinkable!"  
  
Already the heat and smoke were growing intense. My eyes were stinging and my lungs ached like crazy, as I darted behind the counter for some cover. Not particularly effective cover, come to that. One blow and the entire counter was little more than cinders. This time, though, hindered by the thickening smoke, I didn't quite get away clean. My left foot got a mild taste of flame. Yelping, I leapt up toward the gang of thugs, who were backing away, as though they too were finally unable to take the effects of their own weapon usage. I had to get out. Ordinarily, I could knock down anyone who stood in path (with the exceptions of Kim Possible, and, more recently relevant, Ron Stoppable, of course), but not when there were four of them armed with weapons as destructive as this. But, if I shrank away, I wouldn't last much longer in the midst of the burning building - that was certain. I decided, wisely, to take a chance and make a break for it.  
  
Leaping forth with all the agility I could muster, I evaded their synchronised blows, hurled a handful of destructive green plasma straight at them, and, as they jolted backward to avoid it, shot straight through and into the clear and clean-aired world outside. I was coughing and wheezing badly, but nothing could jar my focus now.  
  
I continued to run. Right now, it was the best I could do. I couldn't stand around and fight them physically unless they were disarmed. How I was gonna manage that was still beyond me. Already panic was widespread in the people outside, as the fire continued to spread, and spread bad. Things weren't helped by the appearance of the Hammerheads, slightly blackened and still well-armed, turning their rapacious appetite on the rest of the aquatic town. Or, more specifically, me, still as good a target as ever. I ran on, the continuing onslaught of fire and bullet coming up fast behind. More and more screaming all around as more and more buildings went up in flames and people ran screaming from them. Now it was evacuation time. People were leaping, hurling themselves into the water for cover. Some swam, some took up boats, others just stood there, frozen with awe, as half of their aquatic civilisation became consumed in an ever- growing blaze.  
  
"These guys," I muttered to myself. "They have no sense of. . .proportion!"  
  
Foot still aching, lungs still in pain, I skidded behind the cover of another building, much further up ahead, as Brick advanced forward, trailed by his three sidekicks, their weapons poised and at the ready. Presumably for the first sight of me. Come on, I thought. There must be a limit to how much ammunition those things can store.  
  
"Geez, how many places in this whole damn town can that girl have to hide?" Brick growled. "You think she took to the water, like everyone else?"  
  
"Hey boss!" called that spotted thug, Ned. "You know, I'm thinking, why are we even bothering with that girl anyhow?"  
  
"Hey, never ask questions on a rampage, Ned! Just do it!"  
  
"Yeah, but, how important can that girl really be? I mean, wasn't it that fish mutation thing we came for? You know - Gill? I mean, we're half way through destroying this town already and we haven't even issued an ultimatum yet!"  
  
Peering round, I saw Brick freeze. Then slap his hand against his forehead. "Rats! I knew I'd forgotten something! Okay, forget the girl! Let's just flush out that fish, get that kid, barbecue up some fish steaks and get out of here with the map to dry land! Let's do it!"  
  
They all cheered, then turned and began heading back the way they'd come. I could have breathed a sigh of relief, if I wasn't smart enough to know that things were far from over. Looking ahead, I saw a man not too far from the New Middleton entrance. Staggering helplessly around the edge of the pier, fist clenched and held high in the air, screaming at the top of his voice at a speeding boat zooming off far in the distance to safety. Oh yeah, I knew this man. I knew who he was only too well.  
  
"HEY, YOU THIEVING MORON!!!! COME BACK HERE WITH MY BOAT THIS INSTANT!!! HOW ELSE DO YOU EXPECT ME TO GET OFF THIS FUTILE ISLAND?"  
  
Oh boy. A situation like this and 2018 Dr Drakken was out of transport. That couldn't be good. Not least the fact that his irate screaming was attracting the attention of others. The rather unwelcome attention of others at that.  
  
"Hey," I shivered as I heard Brick say, "if it isn't that old blue scientist freak! What's his name again? Dr. . ."  
  
"Dr Drakken, boss," retorted Ned. "Yeah, that's the guy. The one who still owes you for wrecking your water-hopper in that collision. . ."  
  
"Yeah, I've been after him for a long, long time. . .you have any idea how much it would've cost to have that thing repaired? That's when I had to dump that baby in the ocean and start using DNAmy's useless aquatic mules! Guys, put that mutation on hold for just a few moments, and let's just get him! We can't let an opportunity like this go by!"  
  
So, this was the point where the 2018 Drakken got involved. Man, he hadn't told me that those Hammerheads had guns like that. . .maybe he'd thought just a little too highly of me. Still, I couldn't let him down. The sooner I could KO this gang, get back to the year 2003 and get out of this dump, the better.  
  
Looking up, I noticed, for the first time, a couple of little kids zooming amongst the general panic of town on these. . .rather peculiar boards. Kinda like skateboards, only without the wheels. Instead of wheels, they just hovered there, in mid-air. Hoverboards. A pretty snappy invention. Maybe this future wasn't quite so backward after all. Thinking fast, I formulated a plan with the quickest brain cell to hand in my membrane. Right now, physical fighting would be no good if they were still armed with those destructive weapons. The best I could do for the time being was to create a distraction, much like those high school kids always did with me back in the suddenly somewhat good old days. If I could lure those thugs away from this place on something fast and easy, like one of those boards, and over the vast stretch of water, I'd probably stand a better chance of outrunning them until their ammo ran out.  
  
"Hey there, kid," I said, leaping over, shoving the little guy off and seizing hold of his amazing board. "I need to borrow your 'hoverboard' here!"  
  
"Hey!" he cried, as I leapt on it. "That's mine! You stole it!"  
  
Stealing from little kids is a little low even for me, but hey, I'm sure you'll agree that the ends justified the means! I leapt on it and got straight to action. It really wasn't that hard to get the hang off. It just hovered there, above the ground, and you just had to swerve your feet in the direction you wanted to go and it too you there - up, down, back, forth, south-west, north-west - everything was up to you and your nifty feet.  
  
"Hey, guys!" I called, zooming in on Brick's gang as they approached the unwitting 2018 Drakken. "Aren't you forgetting about me?"  
  
With that, I fired another helping of green destructive ray only inches from them, burning a small hole in the wooden platform. They spun round and growled, pointing back up in my direction and screaming profanity. Diversion: successful.  
  
"Hey, get that smart-mouthed girl! She thinks she can mess with us and get away with it?" Brick growled, and then on they came.  
  
"Give it up, you'll never bring me down!" I jeered, then turned and headed back toward the open water, once again with the Hammerheads hot in pursuit. More blasts of fire and bullet, but, in the absence of floods of people, grass buildings and wooden towers, those things were much easier to evade. Until of course, I ran into my first snag.  
  
For a few brief moments, there I was, soaring gracefully above the water like a supple eagle, the cool breeze blowing sweetly against me as I flew, onward, encircling now and then to avoid their blows. Then, without warning, the board suddenly flipped. It jolted, jerked and struggled, losing speed fast and emitting strange tinny sounds that were frankly not encouraging. Suddenly, it wouldn't obey commands, no matter how frantically I swerved my feet - it wouldn't go left, wouldn't go right, wouldn't go upward. The only direction it would go was down. Deep down. One last brave, malfunctioning struggle and it finally gave up completely, floating motionless on the surface of the waves. And I was stuck there, struggling desperately to keep a balance on the unreliable thing, surrounded by water at every angle.  
  
"What the hell is going on?" I cried, in fury. "I thought these things were supposed to hover!"  
  
"Hey, you idiot!" Ned shouted over in my direction. "Don't you know anything about hoverboards? Those things don't work on water, only on a solid surface! Unless you have additional power, of course!"  
  
Gazing up sheepishly, I saw, to my horror, each one of the Hammerheads reach into their leather jackets and pull out a small, square-looking device with a button on top. One press of that button from each one, and they unfolded, immensely, into a completely different style of hoverboard. Bigger, better, faster, sturdier. . .  
  
"Say hello to the Hoverboard 4003!" called Brick, hurling his down and leaping upon it. "Gentlemen, alter your weapon structure now!"  
  
A press of a button, on those weapons this time, and they completely changed their appearance, merging from a high-tech sort of gun into a rather crude (but nonetheless intimidating) sort of club. Enough to do some serious damage with.  
  
"Okay, let's go!" roared Brick, as his three companions leapt upon their high-tech hoverboards and all four came straight at me, waving their clubs menacingly as their boards zoomed along at lightning speed. The best I could do was just stand there and poise my claws and rays as best I could - maybe if I was quick and ready I could cut through those bulky clubs before they made impact with my skull.  
  
They were close now, barely a few inches away, clubs poised, my own defences activated, ready for the final showdown. . .when suddenly something reached out, grabbed me by the leg and dragged me down under the water.  
  
Beneath the waves, deprived of clear vision and oxygen, it was difficult to focus, but only a couple of seconds later I saw a crash of bubbles and froth up ahead, and the writhing of the bewildered Hammerheads as they fought their way to the surface. Exactly what I was trying to do. I couldn't see what pulled me under, but it was holding me down fast. I kicked and turned and tried to claw at whatever it was in a desperate attempt just to get it to let go. My lungs had been tortured too much already today without any need for this. But nothing worked. The creature was far too quick and sleek about the waves to take any damage, turning and dragging me along with it, back in the direction of the damaged New Middleton. No matter how much I kicked and struggled and fought back with all the energy I had left, it clung on tight, finally swerving round and pulling me back up to the surface just when I felt as though my lungs could take no more.  
  
Air! Air! Beautiful air! I'd just about had enough of all three other elements today. Water - goes without saying - fire - ditto - earth, for not even having the guts to stand strong and be around in the year 2018. But air. . .I was ready to embrace it. Sweet, merciful air. . .never would I take it for granted again.  
  
"I think you're a good enough distance from them now," said a strange voice that made me jump. Spinning round, I saw, for the first time, my captor, his webbed green hands still wrapped tight around my left foot, which still hadn't fully recovered from the burn. Still, that wasn't what bothered me. What bothered me was that he was a green, slime-oozing, scaly creature with gills sticking out from his throat and that his disgusting webbed mitts were in contact with my skin!  
  
"HEY! Get the hell of me!" I cried, this time kicking with enough strength and force to pull my limb to freedom. "Ewww, gross, what is that stuff on your hands!"  
  
"You know, you could at least be a little more grateful," he replied, resentfully. "I just saved you from being pulverised by those Hammerhead jerks! And that stuff on my hands is just a side-effect of being mutated a long time ago!"  
  
"Really? By any chance, is your name Gill?"  
  
"Yeah, that's me alright. But keep it down, won't you? I'm pretty well known around here, that's why I like to keep a low profile! I hate normal people! You know, the non-mutated sort! I hate them so much!"  
  
"Then why did you just help me?"  
  
"Because I hate that Brick Flagg and those Hammerheads even more than I hate most regular normal people! All they ever do is come on after me with those sickening weapons, trying to seek me out and destroy me, taking down everything else that lies in their path! All because they think I'll get to dry land before them. . .shows how much they know about this place - only an idiot would believe in dry land! Anything to get back at them. . .besides which, you're not entirely non-mutated are you? What's with those claws? And those strange green ray things I saw you shooting from your hands earlier? You're telling me you just acquired those naturally?"  
  
I decided to keep on good terms with him, at least while I was still in need of his help, so I just shut up and didn't say any more as he dragged me back around the outskirts of the New Middleton, and allowed me to climb discreetly back onto a wooden platform to safety.  
  
"Here, don't forget your hoverboard!" he called, suddenly producing it from beneath the water and tossing it into my hands.  
  
"Thanks," I replied, wondering what I was supposed to do with it now.  
  
"Yeah, that's okay, just don't tell anyone you saw me, okay?"  
  
He began to swim away, but I called after him. "Hey, Gill! What makes you so sure there isn't any dry land out there?"  
  
"Because I haven't seen it. And I've swam further then most men have dreamed." He sighed and waved, before turning. "Well, good luck, girl! I've gotta get out of here before someone sees me!"  
  
"Bye then," I sighed, as, in a single splash, the gross, slime-oozing creature was gone, and I was left alone, dripping wet and shivering, the unpleasant smell of smoke lingering the air around. Now not even the air seemed so kosher. Looking ahead at the burnt remains of half of New Middleton, panic was still rather widespread, but at least the blaze had now disappeared. People were standing around with hoses and buckets, breathing a sigh of relief as their efforts finally paid off, and erupting in a series of cheers.  
  
Sighing, I staggered to me feet, to hear the unnerving sound of police sirens heading this way. I flinched, but of course it ended up having nothing to do with me. Water-law enforcement was on its way, heading across in a great fleet of boats, right toward where the Hammerheads were still splashing about with their hoverboards.  
  
"Geez, it's the cops!" I heard Brick proclaim. "Come on, guys, let's get out of here!"  
  
And they leapt on their Hoverboard 4003s and sped away, the police fleets still in pursuit. Looking over in another direction, I noticed the 2018 Dr Drakken still standing there, kicking the platform furiously over his stolen transport, totally unaware of how close he had just come to certain death. Or maybe so, in a way. It was his 2003 self who'd sent me out on this mission, wasn't it? Time sure was a confusing thing. But, confusing or not, I'd completed my mission. I'd been successful. Now all I had to do was hang around and wait for 2003 Drakken to swoop down in the 626 and head home.  
  
Only, there was still something, at the very back of my mind, that still bothered me. And it wasn't too hard to figure out what it was.  
  
"Hey, there!" I jumped as this strange middle-aged guy came sneaking up from behind. "I see you're still slightly shocked by what just happened. Well, don't panic, because everything's gonna be okay. They got the blaze out before it really spread, and, as yet, the death toll looks like it'll be staying at zero! Life can return to normal round here before you know it! In a way, all this reminds us of just how lucky we really are round here - let's just take time to spare a thought for those who are less fortunate than us residents of New Middleton!" He held out a collection jar and rattled the coins within. "How about donating a couple of hundred bucks toward the more deprived aquatic communities round here?"  
  
"Round where?" I asked.  
  
"Well, you can't see them directly from where we're standing, but, come on, you know they're out there! You know, like Lowerton? The most depressing, crime-ridden place in the whole known aquatic region one can live? Where folks always end up living when things hit rock bottom for them? You have any idea what it's like to live there? Having to always sleep with one eye open? Having no bars, no restaurants, no public libraries, barely even enough material to build a house out of? Having to eat scraps straight out of other communities' garbage, which they always come and dump in your living space? Some people say that since these people are about as valuable as garbage, they deserve to live in it, but not me! Me and my charity are here to make a stand against that kind of attitude and help these communities get back on their feet once and for all! I mean, we're sick of getting these constant pleas for help from never-ending messages in bottles that keep coming our way - they're so poor, it's their only means of communication! And some of the stuff they write is so heartbreaking, it's high time that someone paid attention to these guys! I mean here, we give out sample letters for publicity. Take a read of this!"  
  
I sighed and took it. A scrap of grimy paper with thin, dark letters inked desperately upon it. One good glance at those letters was enough to make my eyes widen beyond belief, and my heart skip almost fifty beats.  
  
"Yeah, I know, it's horrific what the writer of that cry for help has obviously had to go through, isn't it?"  
  
"Yeah. . .it's horrific alright." I could barely stand up straight just looking at it. "Listen. . . I'm sorry, I gotta go!"  
  
"But. . ."  
  
"Don't worry, I'm gonna help these people. Or, at least, one of them! Just in a different way!" I pushed past him and ran, still clutching that letter hard. When on my own, I read it again, but nothing had changed. That desperate, screaming handwriting still glared back up at me viciously, until finally I could take it no more and had to stuff it down into my pocket for the sake of my consciousness. Trembling, I punched it downward with my fist and grit my teeth.  
  
"Right," I said to myself. "It's time to show that DNAmy who's future has been ruined! It's time to fix the future!"  
  
_  
  
"Hi there, and welcome to Monique's Retrospective Gift store!" the cheery thirtysomething woman at the counter greeted me as I entered her store. "What can I do for you, friend?"  
  
"You can help me out with righting a few pretty nasty wrongs!" I replied. "I'm looking for a book? You got 'em?"  
  
"Oh yeah. Particularly now that the library's gone, this is like the only place left in the whole of New Middleton to get hold of antique books! You've come to right place, friend, so what can I do for you?"  
  
"Yeah. . .I'm looking for a book here. You got anything at all in the field of sporting statistics?"  
  
"Oh cool, another sport's fan! What are *you* into? Football, soccer, tennis, ice hockey. . . ?"  
  
"Hey, I don't really care about the particular sport! All I care about is the time it focuses on! I'm looking for a particular era here! Anything from the time zone of, I don't know, around 2007?"  
  
"Whoa - the innocent ages, huh? Well, sadly books from that era are have been a little hard to get hold of after the great flooding and all, but, like I told you, you've come to the right place and I still mean it! It just so happens that we do have a single sporting statistics book from that era focussing on a very special sport." She leaned over and seized a dusty but mint-looking book. "An entire decade of sporting statistics for the GWA - 2000-2010!"  
  
"That's the Global Wrestling Association, right?"  
  
"Yeah, you bet! Only the greatest sport known to humankind!"  
  
"I know I said I wasn't too bothered about the particular sport, but. . . I don't know. . .haven't you got anything a bit more upmarket than pro- wrestling?"  
  
"Upmarket? Hey, didn't you ever live that decade? Didn't you ever enjoy a single pro-wrestling match in your life? I remember those wonderful days so well. . .Pain King ruled!"  
  
"Whatever. I guess that beggars can't be choosers. And this book will tell me exactly which wrestler won which match over the decade in question?"  
  
"You bet!"  
  
"Then I'll take it!"  
  
"Great! Regular retail price for an item like that would be fifty dollars twenty cents, but I'll let you have it for forty nine dollars twenty two cents."  
  
"Didn't you hear me? I said, I'll take it!" And with that I bolted out the store and ran.  
  
-  
  
"I can't lose!" I was telling myself, as I stood, back around the secluded wooden platform, flicking through my latest booty. "It's all right here, in black and white! When we get back to 2003, we'll see who's in for a rich and plentiful future and who ain't!"  
  
And then came a familiar voice. "Hey, Shego, over here!" I spun round and saw Dr Drakken standing there (2003), grinning his usual megalomanic grin as he strode his way over. "I see that all went to plan! Those irritating Hammerheads are well out of the region, while I see my future self still altogether in one piece, poised to carry out his next bid for global domination!"  
  
"Hey, Doc, you know you lied to me, didn't you? You said those guys where out to get you because they considered you dangerous competition. Turns out all you did was bust up their leader's water-hopper - it was this mutation Gill they were after!"  
  
"Yes, well, I'm sure within time those thugs will come to know and fear the name of the formidable Dr Drakken!"  
  
I shook my head. "You know what? It's never gonna happen, is it? You know it'll never happen because you're already seeing it happen right before your eyes! This is your future, Drakken! Like it or lump it, it's already been set, and unless you do something about it, you're gonna spend your entire life struggling around at the bottom of the food chain, always another fifty miles from ever reaching the top! Me, since coming to this dismal place, I've had a breakthrough!" I held up the GWA statistics book high. "I'm gonna do something about it! It's high time we took the future into our own hands and cashed in big! See this book right here? It represents the key to a better future at long last!"  
  
"How could a mere book represent anything?"  
  
"It's a sporting statistics book! It tells me exactly who's gonna win each wrestling match for the next seven years of our time. All I've got to do is go back, bet on what it tells me to bet on and, before you know it, I'll be the richest living creature in existence! Why should I have to worry about what happens to me in the future then? I'll be set for life!"  
  
Drakken's eyes widened with horror. "Shego, throw that thing into the water right now!"  
  
"What? Hey, no way! This is my one and only chance to make it big in the future, and I'm not gonna just toss it away like yesterday's trash!"  
  
"Just do it, Shego! I didn't spend years fiddling around with that 626 and building a time machine out of it just to win at petty gambling. I built it to take over the world!"  
  
"And, I'm all for that! What's wrong with making a few extra bucks on the side?"  
  
"Shego, I know exactly how I'm gonna exploit the time continuum for world domination! The diabolical schemes must always be my department! Anything you could do would only be an interference on my plan! Remember, I'm the evil genius here! You try taking these things into your own hands, and you'll only end up completely throwing them off course!"  
  
I sighed. "Listen, Drakken, I'm worried about my future here. Your future, thanks to me, may I add, may now be all well and safe, but as for me. . .well, I'm not so sure."  
  
"Well, why not? Leave everything up to me and just do all the fighting when I tell you, and what could go wrong? Hear me now, Shego, this timeline in the year 2018 will no longer exist the second we leave. It'll no longer come be! For you see, the second I exploit the space time continuum to for my own advantage, we'll create an alternate timeline, in which I rule the world, and so the next time 2018 rolls around, this town will effectively be. . .NEW DRAKKEN-VILLE!"  
  
"Really? Then why did you even bring me here in the first place to save your future butt if the future you would have been okay anyway?"  
  
"Because I'm not taking any risks here, Shego! What if something had gone wrong? Besides which, no matter which timeline or dimension it may be, it's a point of principle - no one interferes with Dr Drakken and gets away with it! Now give that book to me and I won't even toss it in the river. I'll ensure it has a nice, dignified disposal, in a garbage can!"  
  
Sighing, I grudgingly handed over the GWA statistics book, and allowed him to dump it into the nearest trash can.  
  
"Fine, now let's get back to the 626! I parked it just behind that building over there, so let's go and get on with my big plan!"  
  
"Okay, but I'm keeping this hoverboard here as a souvenir - it's actually a pretty cool device!" Low, I know, having stolen a little kid's toy and now keeping it, but hey, you heard what Dr Drakken said. As soon as we got out of this time zone this whole scenario probably wouldn't even exist. Which made me feel strangely sad, in a way, and confused. I'd just be relieved to get out.  
  
And then, as I took one last glance around, I suddenly had a horrible fright. Standing there, not too far off, staring, was DNAmy. Poised upon the saddle of a strange, aquatic-looking mule, staring at us with an expression that could only be described as blank. For a few moments I was frozen there, wondering - had she heard it all? That couldn't be good. We couldn't let anyone know about the 626. We exchanged blank stares for a few moments more. I thought, alternative timeline, and then pushed off to catch up with Dr Drakken, as he encircled the 626. Then he suddenly froze, as though something had taken him too by shock.  
  
"Oh please, don't tell me I left the car door open!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Commodore Puddles! He's gone!"  
  
"Really?" I glanced down over to the back seat. Yep, he was telling the truth. The 626 door was wide open and the back of the car was clean as a whistle. "Yeh, what d'ya know? He's disappeared!"  
  
"He could be anywhere around this whole damned aquatic community; anywhere at all!"  
  
"Oh well. I hope he'll be very happy round here! Let's just go!"  
  
"Hold it, Shego! We have to look for him first! We can't just leave him here!"  
  
"Why not?" I protested. "He's a savage, snarling, vicious little monster! I think most of your goons will be happy to see the back of him!"  
  
"That savage, snarling, vicious little monster is my dog, and vital to my experimental research! Do you have any idea how long it took me to locate the most depraved, evil and sinister dog I could find before I acquired him? I'm not going to subject myself to that again! No! We're not going anywhere until that dog is safely found and back in the back seat of that flying time machine! Now, come on, let's go!"  
  
Grudgingly, and still wet, singed and exhausted, I summed up the energy just to pick myself up and trail back out after him into the open aquatic suburbia. We should have known better. Well, *I* should have known better, it doesn't surprise me with Dr Drakken. We should never have left the 626 unattended like that, even for second. We should have guessed what was going to happen. But, I guess, I still wasn't thinking straight. I was still too caught up in fears about my own future up ahead. Regardless of whether or not this current timeline would ever occur or not, I knew, deep inside, that it's mere existence at all, no matter how brief, was worrying enough. I only had to pull out that letter from a resident of Lowerton in my pocket and glance down at that lettering once again to know that it was justified.  
  
I didn't show Dr Drakken that letter. I kept it to myself. I knew that if I did he'd remind me, vocally, the last thing I wanted to hear, even though I knew it for sure myself. That that handwriting, with its desperate spindly lettering, was my own.  
  
***  
  
Okay, end of Chapter 10. Sorry it took so long. I hope you enjoyed it none the less. Don't forget to review! I'll bring you Chapter Eleven as soon as I can!  
  
Here's a sneak preview to get your literate taste buds rolling:  
  
After a brief delay, Drakken and Shego have now made their way safely back to the year 2003. Only, something is definitely up with the present on their return - in fact most of Middleton is now lying in ruins and total anarchy now rules! 


End file.
